The sun is hanging low on my tenth and most favorite Mothers Day yet. In the last hour, I’ve been reading on the patio while my littles play in the sprinkler, which they’ve moved just close enough to their play set to create a water park. My favorite chef is working his culinary magic on the grill, and he never disappoints.
I just took a deep breath and looked around, and I’ve decided that if I could bottle a moment, this would be it.
I would save a little of it for the first Mother’s Day where I don’t have all three babies at home with me. I would crack that bottle open and smell the sweet smells of a fresh cut lawn, watered by the hose, and barbecue in the air.
I’d save a little for when the time comes that I have to share my grown up babies with their spouses and their in-laws. I’d hold it close and remember the breeze through the trees and the warmth on my skin as my little babies once danced in the sun in front of me.
I’d save that precious bottle for when my girls become mothers, and this day becomes theirs. I’d wait until after their Mothers Day phone call, and then smile as I pour out their giggles and shrieks from that special day when they were all mine.
Since I can’t bottle this perfect moment, I guess I’ll settle for writing it all down for a time when I’m feeling nostalgic for these perfect, selfish days.