I still watch my kid like a hawk when we go to the playground (secretly longing and yet already lamenting the day he can do it with me more on the sidelines)
right now
My workouts are
chasing my toddler
dancing in the living room
holding his hands as he tentatively crosses the wobbly bridge (saving up those precious hours after bed time for a hot shower and a spot on the couch)
right now
My bedtime sometimes starts curled up next to his crib as I listen to his deep, slow breaths (his lullabies lulling me, to do lists dancing around my tired brain, longing to get up and leave, saddened knowing someday he won't need this anymore)
right now
my own time feels like no time
to do lists feel like a joke
dust feels like a protective coating that should not be tampered with
right now
is a season
a precious, remarkable, humbling
season
