Mommy, will you play with me?

These days are full of hard decisions.  Hard decisions and great delights.  

"Mommy, will you play with me?"

This is her latest, most common question.  And it's hard for me to answer.  With dish soap half way up my arms, and 1/2 of yesterday's dishes staring me in the face.  With a kitchen floor that hasn't been swept (let alone scrubbed) in over a month.  With laundry making a mountain range through my house.  With exhaustion hanging around my leg, and Baby Brother beating my ribs and bouncing on my bladder.  With my hips and back aching in protest as I sit and look into her rich chocolate brown eyes.

Yes, my darling.  I will play with you.  

Sometimes I ask her to wait or to play on her own until the dishes no longer glare at me from behind their grimy facades.  Sometimes I drop it all, ignore it all, because I know that someday soon the question will be reversed, and I will be the one asking (and hoping for a positive response), "Lily, will you play with me?"  

These decisions are hard because each moment could be our last together.  There are no guarantees in this life, and it's only by God's grace that any of us makes it through a single day.  Why can't we bottle moments to relive and cherish forever?

I don't mean to be melancholy or put a damper on life, but quite the contrary, to live each day and each moment to the fullest, taking time for the important even in the midst of the urgent.

Baby Brother is due in only 5 weeks.  Life will change in huge ways for my baby girl who will no longer be my baby, but rather the big sister.  These are my last weeks to cherish her as my only baby.  I want to do that well.

Yes, my darling.  I will play with you.

Snack and "coffee" [i.e. chocolate milk] break.