Please

Please let me never forget watching Elle say her nightly prayers, studying her profile as she squints into the light talking to God. She is so expressive with her hands and her face, and it's as if I can hear heaven laughing a little as she tells of her day and her wishes of sweet dreams for every person or animal in the family each day.

Please let me always remember the way Timmy grabs my face between his dimpled fingers and squeezes my cheeks before kissing my lips and saying, "I wuv you mama." To which always reply, "Who does mama love?" And if he's in a happy mood, he'll say, "Immy." If not, he simply, but emphatically states, "No!" which means he's had quite enough for the day.

Please let me remember the way Genevieve looks at me as we drive to and from horseback riding. I've taken an active interest in improving the short 44 minutes we have alone together by asking her tons of questions and listening to her joke her way through the conversation, as she does, and I love it so much. She is such a fibber, which is mildly (or very) irritating in most every other situation, but I don't really care if she fibs during our drives. I just let her tell her stories and her moment-to-moment playbacks with as much enthusiasm as she can muster, which usually includes a few (or a lot) of fibbing.

Please let me never wish away the nightly reading I do with the kids. I know it takes forever, and I know my work is definitely always behind schedule, but reading with them feels right, and I know it will be worth it.

Please let me be a better woman for myself, my kids, my husband, God, my PTO board members, my book club friends, church friends, and strangers. I can't tell you how much I talk to God on my morning walks about wanting to be so much better than I just generally am. I can be so much more; I just have to be organized and patient...and willing I guess.

Please let me never forget the way Birdie's hair tickles my face just before nap time while we're reading books in bed. It's always everywhere; she's basically always a mess, but just before bedtime, it feels particularly worse, and I do my best to push it to the side, but it always inches its way to my face and tickles my cheeks and nose.

Please let me always cherish the fact that my husband adores me. My hairstylist recently told me how jealous she was of my relationship with Tim, and after watching her with her husband for just a few minutes, I understand why she's jealous. Tim loves me so much, and I love him almost as much. ;)

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"Be kind and considerate with your criticism... It's just as hard to write a bad book as it is to write a good book." Malcolm Cowley