So this weekend was the weekend of illness.
All parents know it, the kind ...
...where the washer and dryer never stop running...
...where the shower is the only real way to clean them up...
...where you are touched that your child wants to just be held and you can make everything in their world OK for awhile...
...where you are not so thrilled by their frighten face as they run to you scared about how their body is feeling and then throw-up all over you...
...where little hands pat your face and say "I sad, mommy", "Just cuddle me" or "I wuv you"...
...where your spunky, never slow-down, dive head-first into everything son doesn't move except to crawl off the couch and go back to his bed ...
...where you wind up getting it yourself and listening to your babies cry while you are in the bathroom breaks your heart...
Well that was our weekend, thank goodness it is over. But after all the chaos died down there were some wonderful moments. Today I was tucked into bed by my son and then he pulled out his lincoln logs and started to play next to my head. He was so intent on what he was doing, examining each log, linking them together, tilting, twisting and arranging. Suddenly I realize that he was assembly cannons and firing them off at imaginary targets. His big brown eyes were fascinated by the little pieces, his mind caught up in a world of his own making, just content that I was there to share it with him.
These are the moments that families should be all about. The quiet time that we take with each other, stopping and watching. Not rushing to take a picture, running out the door to get on to the next thing, feeling frustrated by the un-done chores or projects. I hope that our Christmas will be filled with moments of wonder, wandering the neighborhood looking at Christmas lights, listening to a choir sing, decorating the tree, sledding and laughing.
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