I’d been ignoring her cries all morning, her pleads to be picked up and carried around.
Busy with chores, and breakfast, and refereeing the older three, until finally she cornered me in my room. Her tiny hand reached up to grab my finger, her sweet little face pulling at my heart. Momma, momma.
I pulled her into my arms, sat in the old rocker, and hummed quietly in her ear. As if to tell me it wasn’t enough, she hopped down from my lap and ran to the door, shutting it tight, closing us off from the noise below. Once again in my arms, with her thumb in her mouth, blankie at her side, Momma, momma.
Yes, my love. I will hold you in this moment, right here in the quiet and calm. The laundry and cleaning can wait. But you will slip through my arms too quickly. This moment will fade all too fast.
So thankful for moments like these.
Linking up today at Thankful Thursday with Three Thinking Mothers.