I need to slow down. I'm reminded of this over and over again (obviously I keep needing the reminders since I'm not listening very well!). One such moment came the other night.
I wanted Molly to go to sleep so I could have some time alone. But Molly kept asking me questions about the parade we were going to the next day.
"Mom, is it the parade we went to with daddy?" she asked.
"No, it's a new parade. We haven't been to it before," I told her. Her oldest brother, Weston, was going to be in the Labor Day parade with his high school marching band the next day.
"It's a new parade?" came her little voice again.
"Yes, it's a new parade." I moved closer to her doorway. "I love you. Good night."
"Is it the one we went to with grandma?"
"No," I said, trying to remain patient. "It's a new parade. We didn't go to it with daddy or grandma. It's a new parade. I love you sweetheart, goodnight."
I tried to walk out.
Urgh! I had things to do. I had a blog post I wanted to write. I had a dishwasher to load. I had pages to finish for my writing group. I needed her to go to sleep.
I leaned my head against the wall. "What?" I said with an exasperated tone.
She smiled and said in her tiny voice, "I love you."
I looked at her, her head raised from her pillow, her mouth turned up in a small smile. And I wondered what could be more important than her? What did I need to do that was more important than this little girl? Than this sweet little person who loves to be with me? Who wants to prolong the goodnights as long as possible so she can spend more time with me?
Nothing. There is nothing more important than her or her siblings or their handsome daddy.
So, I walked back into her room and kneeled by her bed. I took her hand and rubbed her hair. She smiled at me. I told her I loved her.
I said, "You are wonderful." She giggled and closed her eyes. Then she opened them and looked at me.
"You have pretty eyes," I told her.
She said, "They are blue. And yours are black."
"Mine are brown. But they probably look black in the dark."
"They look black in the dark, " she agreed.
I spent a few more moments with her. It was nothing profound. But it was time. Time with her when she wanted me.
Eventually I pulled myself away and went to work on other tasks. I thought about her often the rest of the night. She is wonderful. And she has pretty eyes. I'm glad I took the time to tell her. And I'm grateful for the sweet reminder from my Molly Monkey of where my time is best spent.
Who else but a little girl can get away with this outfit?