I had one of those rare moments today. You know, one of those parenting moments where it seems as though the sun’s glorious rays have parted the clouds and fingers of light illuminate the world. One of those moments that make all the exhaustion, aggravation, and disappointment of mothering seem bearable.
As I stood at the kitchen sink, peeling boiled eggs for my breakfast, my husband was ushering our kids out to the van to take them to daycare. I glanced out the window and there was my six year old son, a casual and happy doddler, standing in the yard.
Wearing his Superman pajamas, with his coat on, but undone, his hood up (of course), and his brand new army fatigue rubber-boots.
I knocked on the window, and he looked up. He had such a look of joy and love on his face when he saw me, I laughed out loud and waved. He waved back. Then turned around to the sound of his dad calling him. He started leaving the yard, but when he got to the gate, he stopped, turned around, looked up at me, and blew me a kiss.
I’m sure today is going to be like any other: filled with all kinds of things that erode my spirit. But today will be a little bit different. I’m going to carry around with me that tiny glimpse of what makes this all worthwhile.