Living the Good Life

We wake up early and still know we are going to be late. I slip into my big, soft black robe, (because its finally that cold in the mornings) and sleepily stumble into the kitchen to put on the coffee. I step out the door into the chilly morning and breathe in the new day's sunshine before feeding the gloriously soft outdoor kitten and offering loves and cuddles. When I step back inside, Ringo blinks slowly up at me like 'Hey man, where's mine?' So I heft him up into my arms (because, let's face it, when we call him 'fluffy' we're just couching the fact that he's a bit fat) and cuddle him too. I don't yet realize that cuddles will play a significant part in my day.

We have family to help move, wonderful people with whom we've grown quite close, so we head over to theirs and are met with smiles and glazed cinnamon donuts. Is there a better way to start the day?  From there, we help them pack and move boxes, all the while chatting and keeping a close eye on the two kids underfoot. Its not long before I assume the role of 'baby herder,' because this beautiful angel has really gotten her feet under her and she'd love the explore the big world outside while nobody's watching. She quickly tires of the walker she's put in, so I take to carrying her around, which becomes my big contribution of the morning. (This, by the way, is where some of those cuddles come in.) Throughout the day and the big move, baby girl occasionally lays her head on my shoulder and turns my heart completely to mush. The third time, the final time, she's finally down for the count, and as I sway with her and sing softly in her tiny ear, she falls fast asleep. In those moments, the afore-lamented boundaries of my heart cease to exist, and I'm grateful for this lovely family and the opportunity to have this kind of a moment even though I have no kids of my own.

The rest of the day melts away amidst family and friends, laughs and warm moments. The sun dips down, down, down until it's said its final goodnight, and we watch the darkness descend from the softly lit dining room of still more family who have invited us all over for dinner. And every single person in the house is so truly blessed that I am almost overwhelmed.

The love, laughter, conversation where I get to know people better and better, wear me down in the most delicious of ways, until we decide its time to head home, set the teapot on the stove to stave off the slight cool of the evening, and here I sit, that same "fluffy" cat in my lap, my irresistable husband at his desk across from me, and 'content' doesn't seem to cut it anymore. I have a bruise on my shin from playing tag with the other little one in the family, and muscles are starting to let me know what they think of all the pushing, lifting, and carrying that I did today, and yet my mind is singularly at ease, my heart is full, and more family awaits us tomorrow.

This is a good life.

 Optimist: Person who travels on nothing from nowhere to happiness.

-Mark Twain