I sat down to write, when I heard her voice. “Mommy? I want to read a book.” Okay, I muttered, and turned off the computer.
We sat on the floor, her in my lap and Andrew hanging off of my shirt and giving my cheeks sloppy kisses. I read a few pages and asked a few questions. I thought about the laundry that needed switching and the dishes that needed washing. I remembered the post I was writing and the blogs I had been reading. My mind was whirling with what I thought needed to be done. Until I pressed pause.
I thought about the beautiful girl and boy that needed some loving.
Suddenly, the to-do list was significantly shorter and my attention span considerably longer.
I continued sitting and reading until we had finished all our favorite stories. Pushing myself onto my knees, I started chasing them in and out of rooms. They ran (or, in Andrew’s case, crawled), giggling and screaming.
I threw them on my bed and started bouncing their lithe, little bodies. Tumbling, they laughed and shouted. Happy to have their mom’s attention.
Crumpling with exhaustion, I fell on the bed. Soon they were jumping on the bed and on me.
And then they were laying their sweet heads in the nook of my arm, each of us staring at the ceiling; our chests heaving, mouths smiling, and eyes closing.
Later on, while placing them in their cribs, I smiled. Their angelic faces, so composed in a restful state, reminded me of why I am here. Why I am a mother.
And with the kids napping, I turned on the computer. This time in good spirits; this time without competition; this time with a kid-induced smile on my face.