It is 9:30pm. My family is sleeping.
I’m sitting in low Sunday night light, looking forward to climbing into my clean sheets. The dryer is running downstairs, and I can smell the moist clean laundry smell. My children are clean, brushed, cozy, and sleeping that deep sleep of childhood.
My sweetest little one has learned to love sleep. He sighs as he rolls to his side, pulls his silky blanket up to his face, and closes his eyes. And I have sighed, too. I have felt my shoulders relax, my mind calm, as I slowly, slowly start to catch up on nights of sleep interrupted.
I made applesauce today from bright fall apples. My son told me he liked it better than chocolate pudding. High praise from a 4-year-old.
I pulled out a tiny ceramic tea set for Plum this morning. It was a leftover Christmas present; she was too little for it last year. She dropped and broke one of the teacups this morning – she’s probably still too little. But she loves it, and loved making tiny cup after tiny cup of tea, coffee, and some other creation that included peppermint and salt. We played all morning, sipping delicious drinks from those thimble cups, as she poured the teapot, holding the top as she poured, always adding lots of sugar.
The sun was out today. Leaves turning, falling. The chill I love was back in the air after a stretch of rare October humidity. And we had nowhere we needed to be. We have many years of busy weekends to come. Friends, sports, activities, adventures, all of these will fill our calendars too soon. It has already started. But this weekend, today, I got to spend the day enjoying my cozy house and my favorite small people.
They are big, big enough to sleep, to play, to imagine, to inquire.
But they are little, too. Little enough to snuggle, to need reassurance that monsters are never allowed in our house, and to love pudding more than just about anything.