Thursday, February 24, 2011

Bigger Picture Moment: The Possibility for Sweetness

I've had a post brewing in my head for a day and a half.  Something about time passing and blessings taken for granted and never being able to recapture a moment.  And the moment I had in mind was simple: both girls, clamoring around me in the kitchen, desperate to be my helpers.  Desperate to do whatever magical thing I'd decided to do in the kitchen, even if all that means is to watch me peel potatoes. 

They wanted to be close; active; helping.  And I couldn't ever imagine a time that they'd rather not be close; active; helping.  But I knew it would come in the years ahead of us.  If appreciating my sweet girls over a pile of potato peels was what it took to savor our moment, I was happy to say I'd done it. 

So this post, it wasn't writing itself.  It was a bare outline.  The possibility for sweetness.  The essence of an inspiration.  But I didn't have a moment to write it: breakfast -- ballet lessons -- lunch -- naptime.

Naptime.  I'd write it at naptime. 

Only, at that hour my biggest girl was clinging to me.  I'd tucked a frazzled toddler into bed already, and Mia just needed some closeness.  She's been needing it all week for some reason.  (Will those reasons ever present themselves clearly?)  Really, I had no choice but to crawl into bed beside her.  She wouldn't be sleeping, I knew that already, but a snuggle became important in the middle of the day.  I curled myself around her while she experimented with the best of positions.  She rolled and slumped and clung and stretched.  Finally, she rested with her head buried in my neck, her arms tucked into my chest.  She made little clicks and swishes with her mouth, because the silence was just too boring to be acceptable. 

Outside, the sky was grayish dark.  An endless morning of rain wasn't budging, and fat drops blew against the window on lazy gusts of sometimes-wind.  Platter-plunker-splink.  Miles away from our cozy bed, the bass of a thundery echo tumbled through the sky. 

I drifted off with my nose buried in Mia's coconut-scented hair.  I started a dream, even, in that quarter-hour of snuggling.  Then, Mia was bored with my smothering embrace.  She wanted to play quietly; she'd had quite enough of a rest.

So I didn't write that post about simply experienced moments and capturing time which is ripe with the possibility of sweetness after all.

I lived it, instead.  It smelled like rain and coconuts and attachment.




We're seeing the Bigger Picture through simple moments -- moments that force us to stop and take notice of the ways our worlds are important, meaningful, and beautiful.  Please join Hyacynth at Undercover Mother for more moments, and to share your own!

12 comments:

  1. "It smelled like rain and coconuts and attachment" - what a vivid description. Your writing has been so strong lately. I can't stop thinking about your defense of princesses. I nominated that post to Five Star Friday. I hope it shows up tomorrow :) Keep writing!!

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  2. Love love love!! We almost didn't make it to dance class today because my little ones were actually content to snuggle in bed this morning....ahhh
    Sorry we didn't wait around and chat today...we'll have to remember to do that next week ;D

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  3. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. I feel like that's the only comment I ever have on your posts.

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  4. What a great last line!

    And seriously, there are so many times that I think "I really have to sit down and write a post...life is so wonderful...I'm so blessed.." but then I remember that it's more important to enjoy that moment than to interrupt it just to write about it.

    hence the lack of content on my blog haha. oops ;)

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  5. Beautifully said!!! You've captured that moment perfectly. Haven't all of us moms been there?

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  6. How do you make me cry? I don't get it. I come here to read your stories and I so often get lifted up by your effortless prose. I have a bloggy crush on you. lol! Don't take that the wrong way. I mean it in the most sincere way possible.

    So I'm glad you find time to write in between your coconut scented realities! :)))

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  7. Beautiful beautiful post! And I LOVE that line, that it smelled like rain and coconuts and attachment. Gorgeous.

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  8. So, SO beautiful. I'm glad you lived it. Living it is what this is all about -- in reference to both life and simple moments make up the bigger picture.

    And coconut rain. I can almost smell it. You take me there so well, Sarah.

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  9. You just wrote what so many of us mother bloggers go through! I want to write, write, write, but even as I am typing this, my three year old is sitting next to me with her head on my lap. Living that sweetness is so good!

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  10. Beautiful! This almost makes me wish for rain just so I could have a moment like this.

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  11. Oh, Sarah, this is gorgeous. I've lived it and smelled it, too, and it's the sweetest, sweetest thing.

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Hmm...And how did that make you FEEL?