In the Waiting
Fall with the chicks is in full swing. Geometry followed by arabesques...our life moving full throttle.
We wouldn't have it any other way.
It's a season of solos being prepared for competition and a new duet partnership formed. The girls? They are in full flight. I'm on a slight autopilot, moving from place to place with a sewing basket, costumes, computer and lesson plans in hand. I know it will go all too quickly, so I'm working to cherish the conversations from the backseat and the bedtime cuddles in the midst of doing dinner planning a week in advance with fingers wrapped in band aids from one too many needle attacks.
As I write, Little Bit sits next to me sipping a slush and reading the novel she's soon to finish. The Grace Girl's math book lies between us, from when she jumped out of the car to head into class after her younger sister's finished. The iPod plays and traffic from the highway near us causes white noise in the distance. Parked under a tree for shade, it's finally cool enough to think fall might actually come to stay.
These are the moments I'm thankful for. The ones that seem insignificant now but will be what I remember in the years to come. A car that gets emptied every night from all we've brought with us, washing little pink tights, sewing pointe shoes, the sheepish pat of her hand on the bed next to her so I'll lay and hug her goodnight...this is what I'll choose to recall.
For now, I'll teach, drive, cuddle, correct, love, clean, give kisses, discipline, observe, hug, wait, wait, and then wait some more.
Because this waiting?
When it ends?
It will mean that the growing up has as well. A part of life that although necessary and beautiful, I'm not yet looking forward too.
So today?
I'll put all else aside and treasure the gift of waiting.
We wouldn't have it any other way.
It's a season of solos being prepared for competition and a new duet partnership formed. The girls? They are in full flight. I'm on a slight autopilot, moving from place to place with a sewing basket, costumes, computer and lesson plans in hand. I know it will go all too quickly, so I'm working to cherish the conversations from the backseat and the bedtime cuddles in the midst of doing dinner planning a week in advance with fingers wrapped in band aids from one too many needle attacks.
As I write, Little Bit sits next to me sipping a slush and reading the novel she's soon to finish. The Grace Girl's math book lies between us, from when she jumped out of the car to head into class after her younger sister's finished. The iPod plays and traffic from the highway near us causes white noise in the distance. Parked under a tree for shade, it's finally cool enough to think fall might actually come to stay.
These are the moments I'm thankful for. The ones that seem insignificant now but will be what I remember in the years to come. A car that gets emptied every night from all we've brought with us, washing little pink tights, sewing pointe shoes, the sheepish pat of her hand on the bed next to her so I'll lay and hug her goodnight...this is what I'll choose to recall.
For now, I'll teach, drive, cuddle, correct, love, clean, give kisses, discipline, observe, hug, wait, wait, and then wait some more.
Because this waiting?
When it ends?
It will mean that the growing up has as well. A part of life that although necessary and beautiful, I'm not yet looking forward too.
So today?
I'll put all else aside and treasure the gift of waiting.
Comments
Post a Comment