I’m in love with the cough my Kindergarten Delight developed last evening ; that worsened in the middle of the night, enabling me to hold him and rock him back and forth, back and forth, like I did when he was tiny, which seems so long ago.
I’m in love with the piles of laundry I have waiting for me, scattered higgledy piggledy on my children’s floors and bathroom. It will make me remember the weekend that they spent in those clothes, and I will smile and shake my head, and sigh.
I’m in love with the sound of the nebulizer whirring as it expands my son’s airways, giving him relief and rest.
I’m in love with John Ritter’s voice as Clifford, the Big Red Dog blaring from my family room.
I’m in love with our own Frodo, the Big Black Poodle, who seems to sense that Littlest is under the weather, and stays close to him, like it’s his job.
I’m in love with our cozy house, lit with glowing lamps and cinnamon candles while the blustery wind blows the sun away and brings spotty rain to the orange and yellow world of leaves outside our window.
I’m in love with my Mom’s anxious call first thing this morning: “How’s little one? How was his night, honey?”
I’m in love with my husband that works double hours so that I can be home with my coughing boy, and feed him soup, and read to him from Wind in the Willows under a cozy quilt, and feel him twirl my hair between his chubby fingers as he goes down for a nap.
I’m in love with my life, and in my old age, I’m getting better at loving it from every angle.
I’m in love with this song, too* Thanksgiving by George Winston