Tribe & Table

I wrestled with every minute of yesterday; we were at war. I needed the minutes to fly by, I needed easy; yet, the minutes were stubborn, dragging their heavy feet.  I counted the seconds, bedtime could not come soon enough, but of course the little people resisted.  I needed room to breathe.  I nursed, I read, I snuggled, and I continued counting.   The day refused to end.

^{Three of my four babies…}

My children insisted on consuming every inch of space around me.  I was annoyed. Thankfully by nine in the evening, the little people started to fade.  I managed to snuggle one to sleep.  Then Amelie crawled into her brother’s arms–oh my heart–suddenly I stopped counting.  The minutes, the seconds,  I wasted–counting.  I realized in that moment the utter wealth I had had around me, I took a breath, and savored the fleeting moment with my growing babies.

…And minutes later we slept.

“Clocks slay time…time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life”

~William Faulkner