Contentment

Rhys is teething and he was having a hard time settling down tonight. Chris went Christmas shopping so I had both boys for the evening. Rhys cried and I went to soothe him to sleep. His room is cooler than any other room in the house but he was snuggled up in his sleep sack. I left the hall light on so only a thin beam of light cut into the darkness. I was quietly singing "Jesus loves me" while I rocked him to sleep. Down the hall, I heard Cole making his way toward the nursery. He quietly entered the room, "Mommy?", he said. I kept singing. He was holding the mallet from the Whack-a-mole game. He slowly climbed up on the ottoman and sat, silently, swinging his feet and patting my socked feet. Rhys drifted off and I savored the moment.

Are we there yet?

I find myself feeling like I am counting time to the next activity, destination, trip, etc. We wake up and I buy time until breakfast. Then I fill the time before we go some place or have lunch. Then I fill the time before nap. Oh, blessed naptime. The time between lunch and nap seems like an eternity sometimes. After nap, the day seems like it is done. Generally speaking, I am always counting the days until we have an activity or play group or the weeks or months before a big trip or holiday. Cole is as impatient as I am when it comes to going and doing. We are still battling the regular requests to go to Grandma's house. I live an endless road trip where the voice in my head is echoed by the voice of my child. "Are we there yet?"