We eat breakfast together. Across the table is a beautiful 3 year old. I feel too young to have her, this beauty across from me.
Iris sleeps through the breakfast.
Evee and I chat, about oh so many things.
We have all the time in the world, sitting at breakfast. I drink my coffee and we look at each other.
We decide to make cookies for our event that night. We walk to the store. Everything is amazing. She wants to buy a card with Christmas on it. I remind her that she's already made cards and that they are beautiful. I tell her that I will try to remember the things she likes. Maybe one day she’ll get them. Maybe something for her birthday.
We arrive home. She gets busy doing something…I can’t remember now. I tell her that I’m going to look for a recipe. We’ve never made sugar cookies with frosting.
The whole of the afternoon is spent baking. Just enough time to frost them before we leave. She asks me if I made cookies with grandma. I’ve wondered the same thing already. I’m sure I did. I know I did. But I can’t remember. 3 is young, but not. Will she remember, I wonder.
The only breaks were to feed Iris. We sat on the couch and read while I fed her. Good Night Moon. The Runaway Bunny. Green Eggs & Ham.
Iris would eat. Then hear Evee laugh or talk. She’s stop and tilt her head back, make eye contact with her big sister and smile. Oh Iris, we’d say. You’re supposed to be eating. We laughed and laughed. She did it every time.
We make it on time, these girls and I.
By the time we get home they are very tired. Right to bed.
Now I am here. With my thoughts. I put on my slippers and write. The kitchen has traces of this afternoon all over it.
My heart is full. I am content and thankful. Life is a joy. Truly a gift.