I'm sitting in my favorite stripey skirt. It's long and loose and gives me room to move and breathe. I can tell I'll be living in it for the duration of the upcoming summer.
I'm randomly typing from Braden's room. He was watching cartoons on Netflix while I did school work with Nora in her bedroom and now here I sit as they play in Mabel's room. For the past twenty minutes she has made funny sounds that have made the redheads belly laugh which in turn makes Mabel laugh again and the process repeats.
And I realize in this very moment that I haven't felt so happy in such a very long time.
I hear their laughter and their sweetest, littlest voices and I know it. I can hear Mabel's gasps as she inhales deeply but then when she exhales I can also hear the strength in it. She is stronger than we give her credit for.
She has had a cold for almost a week and hasn't been able to drink without choking. She had a long choking episode last Thursday (probably the longest one yet) and it was terrifying. I wasn't alone-Rache, Steve and Abrian were here. Abrian was upstairs playing and I saw the fear in Steve and Rachel's faces. I began sweating after about 30 seconds and panic set in. It's the most conflicting moment knowing that there is something you feel like you should be doing and then reminding yourself that this choke is because her brain isn't telling her how to swallow correctly. It's a neurological problem not a simple choking issue.
But she came out of it and within seconds was smiling her usual, beautiful grin. She brings so much light to my heart. I look at her and I know that this life is all going to be ok.
Because it matters.
What I am doing here in this home matters.
These moments of laughter from the next room over; knowing that my children are getting this time with their sister that they would otherwise never get back--that matters. Doing spelling tests with Nora time and time again and watching the joy on her face when I put the giant star over the top of her work--that matters. Hearing Braden sing worship in the toy room as he is wrecking his superheros into their magical kingdom made of toys and trash--that matters. And dancing with Mabel as tears fall from my face to her head, crying out for God to comfort, provide, intercede and surround us always--it matters.
These days of missing teeth, dirty toenails, ratty bedhead, silly lisps, constant snacking, bedtime smooching, toyroom tickling, boo boo kissing, swinging and swaying--
More than anything else in this life.
And I am certain that as the days pass by and the moments escape me I will be able to look back and remember today when I could hear the laughter of all 3 of my precious babies from the room across the hall. They were interacting, they were carefree, they were content and happy and fulfilled.
And I long to be all of those things as well.
Not only for them but for me. Because they deserve that and so do I.