Lullabies and Grins

Two year-old Joshua misses Ellie terribly while she is gone for 3 hours to Kindergarten. He asks numerous times throughout the morning,

"When Elrie be home?"

Joshua was a little misplaced this morning, more so than usual. Joshua was unsettled with every activity. The Legos didn't hold his interest long, the train track he requested be set up, and I patiently obliged (in a very creative track formation I might add), was destructed within minutes. The requests were never ending.

"Want watch home videos",
"Want some pretzels",
"Can I have a drink in my Buzz cup?"
"Will you read me this book?"
"Can I have piece of candy?"
"When Dewie wake up?"

This morning, tears were near when the answer to his never ending"When Elrie be home?" question was,

"Not for a long time, she's going to her friend's house after school and then to dance."

To make matters worse, I was on and off of the phone for most of the morning. After a frustrating morning, Joshua appeared by my side, fingers in his mouth and whined, "Want holdies." Who can say no to that?

To the couch we went. I picked up my Sunday School manual to begin multi-tasking, whilst holding him, but I could tell his eyes were getting heavy, and in a selfish moment, I realized if I got him to sleep, I would have a little time

ALL.TO.MYSELF.

So, I began to sing songs to Joshua.

While singing his ever favorite "kittens" song (Favorite Things from The Sound of Music), I was struck with the realization that I couldn't remember the last time Joshua let me hold him and sing to him.

In that moment I recalled my favorite newspaper column, written by my favorite columnist, Ann Cannon. It is a must-read, 'Precious moments slip by.'

I savored the moment.

As I laid my sleeping toddler on the couch, I heard an awakened baby in the crib and immediately felt a twinge of disappointment, knowing I wouldn't have any quiet time to myself. Yet, as I climbed the stairs to retrieve the fussing baby, I paused outside the bedroom door. I reflected on what I was moments away from seeing; the fussing sound would soon turn into a wide smile from ear to ear to greet me...

And that won't happen forever. One day, there will be a last time for that too.

After all, five, eight and eleven year olds aren't that anxious to be held. Nor do they have a big grin for me when they get out of bed!

Again I am reminded:
"Enjoy the little things in life. For one day you'll look back and realize they were the big things."