A Handful of Pearls

"Life is a collection of a million, billion moments, tiny little moments and choices, like a handful of luminous, glowing pearls. It takes so much time, and so much work, and those beads and moments 

are so small, and so much less fabulous and dramatic than the movies. 

But this is what I’m finding, in glimpses and flashes: this is it. This is it, in the best possible way [...] Normal, daily life ticking by on our streets and sidewalks, in our houses and apartments, in our beds
and at our dinner tables, in our dreams and prayers and fights and secrets –
this pedestrian life is the most precious thing any of us will ever experience.” 

― Shauna Niequist

Life has been busy lately. Not so much in the way of pulling out my planner and writing important things in hurried handwriting, but more in the way of expecting. Of preparing. Of building upon the days before and building up to moments even larger.

Of course, the biggest moment of the last couple weeks was this one. Calling to Millie, who was playing quietly in her room, hearing her footsteps dance up the hall until she rounded the corner and saw her daddy. 4 months of being without him melted into shrieks, jumping up and down, and begging for her "piggy-bank" (piggyback) ride before he had a chance to do anything more than take off his boots. And I got the kiss I was waiting for; everything was normal and okay and right with the world that night.

The days have been filled with small things, too. Homework assignment upon homework assignment as the semester wraps up, and I've nearly forgotten what it's like to not have something due any particular night. Mostly, it's good, though. It stretches and grows me, in endurance if not knowledge.

We're slowly wading through the unpacking of boxes and hanging of pictures in this apartment. It's becoming a bit more like home every day.

I'm opening the door to the baby's room nearly every day now. Some days, I organize something I feel has to be done right this minute, and other days I open it just to remind myself of it all. This room will be occupied very soon, and by someone I will love very much. It's almost hard to take in sometimes, just as it was with Millie. And then, in a matter of days, I know I'll forget what it was like when it was just her.

But for these last seven weeks, it's still Millie and me. She's the best sidekick I could hope for, and I can't wait to see her as a big sister. I know, between two babies, I'll have no sleep but so much love. If there is anything worthy of losing sleep over, it's hugging little ones with my cheeks and his eyes.

Life is good. It's settling into itself again, in a soothing, soft lull. Today, I met friends for lunch and Millie had a pancake date with Daddy. Those moments are all I can ask for, really. I cannot think of anything to add to my days, and that feels wonderful. Life is quiet but steady, gentle but sweeping. Every day has been full, but in a reassuring way.

Oh...and did I mention the homework?