entry three

People tell me I will miss these days with children small. I have no doubt that I will. I miss the snow freshly fallen and creating the first set of tracks within the vast untouched whiteness. Tire tracks etched onto the feet of fluff- that I miss.

And I crave.

Journaling next to my daughter as she adds color to yellow paper. A week away from being 18 months old. And too soon to be a big sister.

Crazy haired Tucker coming down the stairs- all mischief faced and holding folded coonskin cap- emptying contents of hat (Duplo animals and people)- cap now atop his head as he explains to me his treasures. Fondly placing them on our chalkboard painted table.

Food is still sitting on the black surface from lunch. Papers cover countertops and toys and pillows litter floor. And it’s mess.

But there’s beauty here, amidst this imperfect craziness.

And it’s good.


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