Friday, July 31, 2015

The Time Thief

It's a quarter to twelve and I'm sitting on the sofa, surrounded by animals, blankets, a mostly drained coffee cup and a bottle. Nearby, there's an unread chapter in a book, an unfinished grocery list and a magazine I can't seem to make it to the end of. And in my lap, there's this. This little time thief, who has stolen half the day.

I had things to do today. I was supposed to have been to the grocery store and back. I was going to clean the bathrooms and the floors (normally Andy's chore, but since it's his birthday weekend, I wanted to do it as a gift to him) I have got to fold her laundry and I need to get the rent check into the mailbox by pick-up time. But this morning, all I've been able to do is sit and listen to her sounds. I've grabbed her hands and done "I love you's". I've swung her between my legs and sung "fly like a butterfly." I've taken a ridiculous number of pictures.

She has snatched the time away again. She's taken nearly two months now and stored them away in her tiny pockets.

So there's dust in the corners, not much food in the fridge, and laundry in the dryer. As for me, I've yet to shower. Yoga pants and t-shirt are today's outfit and make up is definitely not on the agenda.  I get Parents magazine now. It came free with a purchase at a maternity store. On the cover of one of the issues is this slim and perfectly put-together woman, sitting on a white carpet, leaning against a white sofa, holding a book in her hand. She's bare-footed (I guess to make it look more relaxed) and perfectly pedicured. Beside her is a little girl doing the same. Maybe somewhere out there is a real woman and a real child who look like that. Maybe somewhere out there is a unicorn having lunch with a winged-pig.

There's part of me that wants to chase that image. But I've chased a unicorn before (remember, Jack and Preston?) and they always out run you. So I'll just sit here and smile at my time thief. I'll listen to the cicadas and watch the sun slide across the sky. And maybe I'll put some of this time in my pockets, too. That way, when school has started and life is busy, I'll have something to pull out and look at- a cluttered sofa in a sun-lit living room, sleeping dogs and the baby girl in bright pink who stole my heart and all of my time once upon a summer morning.


  1. Then you'll blink and they will be naught but a lovely memory from long ago...

  2. It would seem that you are in love with a beautiful child and everything is in order, except you might need to get Andy to refill the fridge! You need nourishment too! What a beautiful reflection on motherhood! I wish that all women had the time or took the time to bond in this manner!