Pete is a volunteer soccer coach for the Mebane Youth Soccer Association. There are two seasons every year – Spring and Fall – and each season is about 2.5 months long. During the season he does one practice a week, and for the past several seasons that practice has been on Tuesday nights. I fully support his involvement in this because a) it’s a fantastic program that relies entirely on volunteers, b) Pete played and loves soccer and c) the kids LOVE coach Pete. But all of that said, it sucks not having him home on Tuesday nights. Work keeps me away from the house for about 10.5 hours a day, so my weeknights are precious family time, especially since Norah came into our lives. I mean, it’s really not all that terrible – he’s home by 8, which means in time to eat some dinner and put Norah to bed, and it’s one night a week for less than half the year, but still. I’m selfish and sharing my hubs with anyone makes me pout. On top of that, I hardly want to spend my limited Norah time worrying about making dinner. I realize this probably sounds absurdly whiney – that being a parent means doing a lot of shit with not enough time and that’s just a fact of life. But the days when Norah actually wants to spend a lot of time with me are certainly numbered and I want to take advantage of them as much as possible. One saving grace in this situation, as in many situations, is having my mom in town. During soccer season she makes us dinner almost every Tuesday night. And on the Tuesdays she’s not able to make something she stays at our house for as long as I need to help me with whatever I need. Have I mentioned how lucky we are to have her here? Crazy lucky.
Tonight was the first practice of the season. Mom made us veggie lasagna (YUM). I got home from work and about 5 minutes later Pete left. The lasagna simply had to bake in the oven, so my dinner duties were pretty much null. After I got one small chore out of the way – trimming the dogs’ nails – I sat on the floor and commenced full on Norah-Mama time. The next hour was one of the best hours of my entire life. We spent the whole time sitting on the floor. Well I sat, Norah alternated between sitting, walking, crawling, rolling around, and of course dancing. She would dance and spin along to whatever song was on Pandora, then come over to me and throw her arms around me and say “I love you”. Then sit in my lap, lay in my lap, crawl all over me, give me a kiss, give me another hug and so on and so on. If I sat any way other than indian style (is that even allowed to be said anymore?) she would say “move, move” and push on my legs to get them back into the crossed position. Once they were folded she’d step into the center of them and again throw her arms around my neck and hug me tightly and put her head on my shoulder and say “I love you” again. A whole hour of this! I felt incredible. I can’t even begin to describe the intense emotional high of this evening and the extreme adorableness of my daughter. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt so loved. I wanted to bottle that up, to capture it forever, to never forget a single second of that hour. Of course I cried, I know you’re wondering. It was nothing short of amazing.
This is what it’s all about.
Elderland out. XO.