We push and pull each other. She cries and I cry. It is hard. She is sorrowful during lunch - crying intermittently about nothingness but clearly tiredness. We read our new book in bed. Our new book about the Greek Gods that I thought would mostly interest my son but she is the one glued to it. She cries when the reading ends. I know she needs a nap and I try to leave so it will happen. She says, "I want to spend all my time with you. Please, don't go." I am usually very strict about nap, about bedtime, about doing it on their own. You know, "giving children the gift of comforting themselves to their sleep." Then I make the choice. The choice to hold her a bit longer and let her fall asleep in my arms. And she does. We both fall asleep. I wake to see her sleeping in the sunlight. I wake to see her sleeping in the sunlight. Oh my. I decide to sneak out to retrieve my book and then snuggle back in with her. It is tender. I am at peace. She is a sleeping beauty.
There were other moments in our day, in our week that were not so perfect and I didn't make such good choices in the parenting department. But this is the one I want to remember. I need to remember that it is all about choices. I can decide to be present, to be peaceful, to give, and to love.
I can choose to see the big picture.
Up close and personal.
