Rinse and Repeat

Earlier this week, I wrote about the extraordinary amount ofsad news I have heard this week. Since that time, I have heard even more. Last night I wrote a list with the names of each person. There are EIGHT names on the list. Eight heartbreaking stories for people I know. Cancer. Hospitalization. Death. Loss. Grief. Sorrow. Infants. Children. Mothers. Fathers. I am praying for each of those names on the list, praying for their families, and for hope.

When I sat down to write today, I was determined to produce something lighthearted, something happy, to balance the melancholy. I have thought about my kids, about Mother’s Day, about the upcoming summer. There really is so much joy around me, and the most joyful part of my life is the infectious, innocent laughter of my children.

I wanted to write a humorous ode to mothers of young children about what we are not. We are many things, but we are not tissues or towels or chairs or pillows. I had actually stored this idea away in my head for a couple of weeks. It was going to be hilarious, or at least as hilarious as I can be.

But then, last night, my daughter used me as a towel. On purpose. Her cup leaked, and instead of reaching for the towel that was right next to her, she walked across the room and wiped it on my arm. 

She had that look on her face. She was trying to conceal her smile, trying in vain not to laugh. But, laugh she did. At first, only a tiny giggle escaped, and she watched me cautiously to see how I would react.

I couldn't help but grin back at her mischievousness, and just the start of my accepting smile was all it took to set her off. She erupted into laughter, the absolute best {from the bottom of your belly} kind of laughter. We laughed together. She ran to the bathroom sink to wet her hands again and returned for another round. She (literally) rinsed and repeated several times, without a single break in her hearty laughter.

It’s true that most days I do not want to be a tissue or towel. That’s what they make actual tissues and towels for, right? But sometimes that’s just the way it goes with small children. And sometimes it can be exactly what a mom’s heart needs … ridiculous, light hearted, innocent fun.