It’s been a really good couple of days. You know, the kind of day where first thing when you wake up and last thing before sleep, you just feel at peace, all through your body and mind?
That’s where I’m at lately.
I may not be 100 percent happy or be getting enough sleep or relaxation or whatever else (maybe I am), but I’m definitely just at a peaceful spot and I’ll take that.
My mind travels at least 60 mph to match the car on rides home. Watching the corn grow taller and taller, the breeze a little cooler at night. And I think about this season’s feelings five years ago when I first met Scott. His hair was longer and blonder and I had a huge crush on him. I loved listening to him sing country songs with all the windows down, laughing at myself from being so far from where I thought I wanted to be. Silly girl.
And look at us now.
My job is going well, really well, but I still take the most pride in my job as Momma, whether it’s just stealing a few moments before bedtime or catching a few grins before I leave for work. Whether it’s an entire day of smiles or rocking that wicked teething process away for a few moments. Whether we’re by ourselves or surrounded by the love that comes in Mommies exchanging wise conversations without even talking, watching each other for cues from 20 feet away. Whether it’s the immense pride I feel when quicker crawling is seen or “Ma” escapes his lips, those big blue eyes staring only at me.
The end-of-summer madness everyone else is feeling I’m oblivious to — I get to watch it go by slower, slowly. As others try to grab at last get-togethers before school begins or the final vacation of their year, I enjoy my year-round career, thinking I never have to wish for one season to slow down or another to speed up; I get to just live it at a pace that feels just right.
The passing of a football between big kids, the passing of sleepy babies from hip to hip.
<—- Apparently, the change of seasons also means you need to update your diaper bag. Z-Man had no warmer clothes. So, the hoodie belonged to a nearly-three-year-old girl and the camo pants were thanks to buddy Owen No.l .
We’ve since updated to try to move a little higher than World’s Worst Parents.
I think I might cry when the corn gets cut.
It’s been a good, good harvest.