We sit below the window and the morning sunlight streams in. His smile is so broad and his eyes all crinkled up they turn my heart in a million directions and I know why children are a blessing.
Even in these mundane moments.
She sleeps in her cot next to us and I gaze at Piglet, his fringe getting into his eyes and his hands digging into the laundry.
I nod my head towards Roo, put my finger to my lips and Piglet smiles. A comfortable silence descends on us and I think again children are a blessing.
My itch to throw the predictibility of our routine to the wind is scratched away gradually as we put our heads together and I show him how to fold squares and triangles and tell him it’s okay his doesn’t look like mine.
He gets busy and happy with his pile and I laugh secretly inside with the joy of watching him.
The joy of my boy, my gift from heaven.
The joy of rediscovering and relearning the pleasure of simple work.
The joy of knowing my heavenly Father delights in me – as I do in Piglet – because I belong to Him and not because of how well I fold laundry.
The mess of cottony nappies dwindles and transforms into neat stacks and we shake hands.
Thumbs up. Hug and kiss.
Piglet (3.6yo), Roo (7mos)