we sit huddled on the couch, this family of four, baby’s fingers tangling round and aiden in his long legs and pensive face. we’ve eaten pizza and watched a show and now we’re sitting. just. because it’s all about this.
“this is our thing, emily,” trent reminded me earlier when i didn’t think we should watch a show with our pizza. we only ever watch a show when we eat pizza. but we’re a family now, and families should have stimulating conversation over supper. “we can’t lose our thing,” he said. “if we lose our thing, we become no different than the animals.”
and this sitting and eating pizza and watching a show cradles our our children close. and i’m learning (this writer addicted to success) that my life means no more than when i’m holding the life that grew inside. the life that burps and coos and gets peanut butter on my curtains and pummels itself at my knees when it sees me in the morning. the love that sits on the couch long after the show is over, holding each other, arms wrapped tight.
“the earth laughs in flowers,” emerson says, and our family flowers with laughter. we laugh together on this couch and i cry to him later, cry that i’m not ready for them to leave us, and our baby, not even three months. “live more slowly,” trent tells me.
and i’m learning this. to dance long songs and hold close the life that makes mine matter. “there’s nowhere else in the universe that i’d rather be than here with you, right now,” he says.
linking today with dear ann, laura and jen.
thankful now for this:
601. a weekend away with my husband and our baby, eating korean and playing cards in a hotel room and learning to laugh again at each other’s jokes
602. my sweet aiden learning to pray and to say “i love you”
603. a novel i can’t put down (sarah’s key)
604. a friend who wants to talk about writing
605. the scene from my deck, of fall color and geese and my boys in the backyard
606. kasher cooing and chuckling and kicking his chubby legs
607. spicy tea and chocolate chip cookies
608. movies with friends on a tv that had to be smacked once in awhile
609. getting a columnist position with The Christian Courier
610. hearing God’s whisper in my hair as i run