My afternoon

Sometimes I get to have those rare perfect moments, when my kids are so good and sweet and wonderful that I smile so hard that it actually hurts. And not just my face but my chest and heart and just bursting with adoration and gratitude and so many good and loving things.

But those moments are usually punctuated with a screaming tantrum that jerks me back into reality. But that's okay because too much perfection might be more than I can handle.

Butterfly peeked around the corner to the playroom, silently asking to forgo naptime today. Since she finished the required 30 minute quiet time and was in a good mood, I waved her in. I finished my phone calls, emails, etc while she held a birthday party for her dolly. She used a connecting bubbles toy to make streamers, draped around the space as decorations. She wrapped little toys in baby blankets and lined up all the party guests. We sang to baby and ate pretend cake. Then she disconnected the chain of bubbles to use them as balloons, piled on the dance floor.

Soon Lovely was awake. I scooped her up from the crib and she buried her head into my neck. She settled onto my lap in our favorite chair and eagerly accepted her lion from big sister. I love the way she hugs and cuddles her silly lion, as if being reunited with her best friend.  She settled in for a short cuddle, babbling to me and grabbing my chin to make me look directly at her each time she determined my attention had wandered.

Soon she wiggled off my lap to play with the tea set. She happily poured tea, dunked the pastries in and out of the cups and ran back and forth insisting I drink or "cheers" with her. But then she spied her toy cell phone and apparently had to take some calls, jabbering animatedly and frantically stabbing the buttons to return text messages.

Soon she had donned an exercise headband and was chatting on the phone while pushing her Dolly's stroller around the room. I texted a pictured to Daddy, admiring her unbelievable cuteness but admitting that I secretly worried I may have gone off the deep end. Perhaps she's grown to age 23 but I can still only see my little baby.

Soon Ladybug patterned in from her nap, still half asleep and eager to curl up on my lap clutching a mound of her blankets. I hugged and cuddled and whispered to her and telling her as I often do, "you're wonderful". And with a tiny smile she whispers back, "I wonderful". I pressed tiny kisses through her mussed hair and she whispered, "I love you mommy."

She had dropped one of her blankets on the way. Without being asked, Lovely snatched it up and brought it to her, helping spread in on her lap and tucking her in, such sincere thoughtfulness from someone so tiny.

Then Lovely decided she needed to join and climbed back onto my lap which became a squirming pile of blankets and little girls competing and soon, fighting for space. So the peaceful, sincere moment was apparently over but its OK. There will be more. My kids are amazing.