Just Like Magic

When I went to leave for work this morning, and I peeked in on Katie, she was asleep, sucking her thumb, all curled up in the shape of a comma. This may not seem much to you, but this is the first time I've seen her sleep like that so it was big stuff to me.

We had to take the bumpers off her crib this week--it looks so strange and bare--because she has learned how to be an escape artist and wriggle. Our baby Houdini figured out how to wriggle out of her swaddle and up to the top of the crib. She hasn't figured out crawling . . . yet! The writer in me wants to liken her sleeping to punctuation: she used to sleep like an exclamation mark (all straight up and down!), then she moved on to the backslash (sort of slanty /), and this morning, curled up, like a comma.

Why didn't I have a camera? Why didn't I know where ours was so I could have taken a quick picture? I need a magic word to say that could freeze time for me; I'm losing all these moments so fast. Already she doesn't look like a baby anymore but rather like a little toddler. Why oh why do I have to work today when I would rather just be home with her and my honey? Oh the never-ending guilt of a working mom.

Today, Steven will attempt to finish off the main Christmas decorating and hopefully tonight we will get to putting the ornaments on the tree. (We hadn't realized how Kates has the power to make something take twice as long!) And when I get home, I will attempt to be at least 3 people all at the same time: Mummy, wife, and me. Maybe if I figure that out, having 6 hands will help me accomplish everything (decluttering, decorating, laundry, cleaning, baking, etc.) that didn't get done yesterday.

If only I could pull a maid out of my hat! That would be brilliant. I just want a moment, one tiny moment, to let go of stress and worry and all the busy business of being an adult . . . and find the wonder of the Christmas miracle again. I want one Today, that would be the biggest magic of all.