is watching my daughter sit in front of the door looking through a stack of books while waiting for the neighbor boy, who promised to return, but who never came back to play.
is coming home from someplace and venting by polishing off the leftover pizza.
is not devouring the queso next.
is having a heart-to-heart discussion with Matt regarding something we both feel deeply and passionately about.
is getting up at 5:00 to get ready and make a Crock Pot gumbo before the craziness of my day begins.
is noticing that the rice in that gumbo is a little mushy.
is eyeing my daunting things-to-do list.
is tripping over the exersaucer, bike, scooter, bouncy seat, swing, and other miscellaneous toys.
just is. It’s been bubbling up a lot lately, but I’m not sure I can pinpoint its impetus.
is dangling off the end of my rope, letting go, and then throwing a temper tantrum worthy of a 3-year-old.
is my daughter’s arms around me.
is feeling my heart flop inside my chest like a grounded fish.
is snuggling on the bed with Amélie and Jack, listening to them giggle.
is taking a 1 1/2 hour walk around the lake with a friend on a beautiful morning.
are my muscles.
is the anticipation of a wonderful friend’s visit next week.
am I about another friend.
is rocking my baby son in my arms.
is bending down to sniff and kiss the top of his head.
is discovering that my gumbo didn’t turn out so bad after all.
springs eternal once in awhile” (from Mark Heard’s “Another Day in Limbo”)
but oh so