Day to day.

When Alla was just three, Fisher was a newborn, with all the needs a newborn comes with. Still, he was a super napper and she and I continued our fun times and snuggles at regular intervals throughout the day. It was easy, we had done day upon day for three years.

And then the morning nap went and I really missed that time, the reading under the kitchen table, especially.

And then she off and went to kindergarten and my heart broke, but as I sobbed at the sight of her bus getting smaller and smaller, I also looked down at my little boy who was now all mine every morning, and my heart got a little brighter.
Because even though it would take me a few weeks to find a rhythm, and to look at the morning as full of possibility rather than emptiness, he knew none of this, only that he had his mom-pal all to himself.Probably our mornings are a little busier than hers and mine were. Some weeks it seems like we're running around on all the days we're not at school, and it's just such a relief when the weekend shows up and we can all linger in our jammies for a little while.

I hope he would say that even the busy mornings are fun. "We always see cool stuff when we got out together." It's true, we do - because he has these sharp eyes that always find the trash trucks and cranes and street sweepers and concrete mixers and car transporters. But I hope he would also say that we do spend plenty of mornings at home, in jammies, with play dough or crayons or blocks and snacks.

And so I just wanted to say that in this year, when I have missed my little girl so darn much, I have also truly cherished each morning with my son, with his still-dimpled fingers and big brown eyes and hugs and appetite and even his being a complete handful.

I am so lucky to see this, to be part of it every day.