I am writing this as I spend a weekend at home recovering from being sick. George is happily playing soccer in the backyard with his buddy and Olivia has two friends over as well.
There is music thumping throughout the house and the living room is draped in white sheets. Candelabras and red and gold pillows accessorize this rather dramatic photo shoot set-up. When I asked the girls what their theme was, they replied amidst wild laughter, ‘Murder.’
I love these girls. They laugh a lot and they sing constantly, their voices harmonizing and their big energies filling up the house. I imagine them now posing and enacting theatrical scenarios, but I don’t go down and watch,
wanting them to feel free, at least here.
Meanwhile, our 12 week-old new puppy Marty (yes, we got a puppy!) is sleeping in his bed near the back window, resting after the vigour of chasing the ball around the yard with the boys.
I had forgotten what it is to love a new puppy ~to be utterly mesmerized by his antics, to laugh at his awkward little body falling out of bed and stumbling around in a tired daze. I forgot what it was to hold a puppy’s sweet body close, to wake up early in the morning to wide-awake wanting-to-play puppy. I forgot what it was to watch a little being almost wiggle itself out of its body with joy when it sees you.
The kitchen is covered with dishes, and there are leaves tracked all through the kitchen. Marty of course, is not perfectly house trained yet so our carpet is speckled with cleaning solution marking accidents.
Yet, as I stood there amidst the mess and the pounding music, I realized I felt completely happy even though I am still sick. I was out of sorts this week, feeling cranky and anxious, overwhelmed ~ but in that moment everything felt right.
This is it….messy, beautiful, imperfectly perfect life. I know the day will come when I will look back on these days and know that this was all devastatingly lovely, all of it.