We have been being gloriously lazy. That is what late summer is for, if you ask me. I'm determined to use these last weeks before our days become harried with school schedules and fall's events to be slow like snails, and so far all is going as planned.
Today at the pool I lounged in a chair behind Theo and Sully. They were sitting like sunning toads, their towels the lily pads, eating slices of pizza bigger than their heads. They share quiet conversations with little giggling bubbles erupting now and then. At one point Theo turned back to look at me, "Thanks for this awesome pizza, Mom. Love you."
I reached for my over-sized sunglasses and dropped them over my eyes. Stretching my legs and pointing my toes to the sun, I looked over at a mother sitting a few chairs over from me. In her arms a new babe, nursing beneath a towel while her daughter who looked to be around two-ish continually pushed boundaries and jetted off toward the water.
I knew her well, for wasn't it just yesterday that that was me?
For once I didn't feel my heart in my gut as I saw those baby legs and toes dangling beside a mama's hip. I definitely didn't feel sad that I had not a little one to continually chase after. I felt time - fast and full.
In fifteen minutes the lifeguard will blow the whistle. Pizza will get tossed aside by greasy little paws for goggles. My little ones content, needing each other in times like this and only needing to know that I am near; I lifted my chin toward the sun and closed my eyes.