Crazy Love - The Here and Now

Piggbacking off my mom's comment in the last post... (warning, sentimental female blog post)

One reason I think rest is so important is because I do not really really really appreciate the place and time I am in now without it. And maybe it's not actual sleep but just some time that is simply nothing else time.

Today it was right before I fell asleep for our nap, holding Jack in bed, staring at the bed and the curtains and the light coming through. I wasn't thinking about anything in particular, wasn't worried that I heard the phone ringing or that I wasn't going to have time to do more laundry if I didn't get up. I just lay there and liked the warmth and weight of Jack next to me - breathing those deep baby breaths of "nothings wrong with me right now, I am totally completely content." I day-dreamed about what life will look like in the near future - when Jack is crawling and walking - who Abby is becoming and wondering how she will be shaped by her own little life ahead of her.

And for now, just really really appreciating that they are MINE. My own little family, MY kids. Obviously Jack is more MINE than Abby - which goes along with the thoughts about how things changed once Abby started pre-school. Suddenly she had an entire life outside of me. Suddenly she wasn't completely and totally MINE. It was that first step of sharing her with the world and, to some extent, releasing her into her own as time goes. But, even for such a big girl - real letting go and releasing; that's still a bit later. She's still mine, mine, mine. And I tell her often. I'm still hers. Its a more complicated possession than what I have with Jack, but just as essential, because now, I'm not the only thing in her life, the sun and the moon - now, people and peers and pressures and concerns are swirling around her and I'm her pillow, her home, her guaranteed hug.

For Jack, we're just defining how important we are to each other. He's just realizing how fabulous this 'mom' person is who wants to kiss the cheeks off him and who jumps at his every bark, and mourns with his every pout (okay, sometimes I laugh at his pout- that lower lip - how can I help it?).

And Steve - he's in the here and now too. Making decisions that bind the whole of our little universes together. He's made some hard choices - choosing family is not always obvious or easy. To come home and see his kids before they go to bed; To spend the time together with me even if it means watching one of my shows, or worse yet... just talking. He has Abby giggling as she reads him a book and Jack laughing with joy. As success comes, some of his choices may not be as freely made, but he's building such a strong foundation with us, we'll weather it - we'll miss him, but, quite frankly, he'll make it up to us. He's just cool that way.

Our future seems so warm. I see my kids growing up into fabulous, fun, silly, brilliant people surrounded by this incredible extended family on both sides - making them even more confident, even more cool - drawing strengths we don't have from other family members. I see my 'things' (photoplay, writing, painting) increasing as my family grows and as I centimeter by centimeter release my children. I see Steve working in his passion and excelling all expectations. I see us having time together because we are so ridiculously spoiled by both sets of our in-laws. I see family getting better and better. I see I will get more and more sentimental the more I grow and appreciate all that I have around me.

I see I will still need Oreos from time to time... Like now... They would really hit the spot