Tiny Adventures

It’s the earliest I’ve been out of the house in a while, much less loaded down with both boy and dog and a day’s worth of stuff. Eight a.m. was near and my need for a hot morning cup was growing.

At the Starbucks window, the barista hands me my chai latte.

“Oh! He’s SO CUTE!” she says, referring to my nervous, squeaky pup in the front seat. “Does he want a puppy latte?”

“Um, sure?” I say, unaware there was such a thing.

She returns with a cup full of rich whipped cream. “Thank you,” I say.

Augie momentarily forgets his nerves and sticks his nose deep into the cup.

Bear sits in the back, snuggled in his seat and still in his pajamas. There’s no need to get dressed this early. Especially for a road trip to Pop and Grams’ house.

I pull away and mentally prepare for our venture. After a few minutes to cool, I reach for a sip of tea. I have to brush the puppy hair from my lid before setting it to my lips. That dog. I think half his coat was floating through the car. He gets so anxious (excited?) when we travel.

The day is spent with family. Baron visits his great-Noni and great-Gaggy, slobbers all over his Uncles Jon and Nate (ladies, you’re missing out on some fine men there), rides the Kubota with his Pop, and loudly reprimands Grams as she attempts to set him down for a brief moment.

I, however, did mostly nothing. I make sure Bear and Augs are fed and clean and comfortable, but otherwise, my mind is light.

And I can tell today because I’m new. I needed that rest. I needed my mom’s cooking and my Noni’s hugs and Missouri’s air. I needed a tiny adventure, a quick escape.

And so – it was.

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Saturday

grass

Today was it.

The sky is blue. Sun streams and swift breezes compete on our skin for attention. Goosebumps rise in waves, only to melt away in the sun’s glow as soon as the air stops.

We sat outside, Baron and I, and watched M work on the lawnmower. (I’m sure our neighbors are as ready for our yard to be mowed as we are.) Augie roams freely, sniffing the crevices in the concrete – a new treat for a pup who normally remains on-lead.

Out of this blue wonder, it comes. This thought.

Today is the day.

Today is the day I imagined; the life I’d never have. Today I sat in the sunshine holding a perfect five-month-old son, watching my husband work with his hands.

Much of my time has been spent patiently waiting for life to “get back.” Get back to normal. Get back my body. Get back my energy. Get back my health. Get back in a routine. Get back to work…

Today though, there was no “getting back.” I’m here. ┬áThis is it. This is good.

I need nothing else.

Today, I’m so grateful.