The babe has finally drifted off to sleep.
Usually this is the moment when I spring into action, racing around the house to tackle the things that were too difficult to do while holding him… preparing food, using the bathroom, swapping out the contents of the washer and dryer, making headway on writing projects, washing dishes, sweeping back the incessant tide of dog hair.
But I am still sitting here,
listening to the rain.
Watching a squirrel make its way across the branch of the maple tree outside the window, noticing that its leaves are finally starting to turn.
I am not planning dinner. I am not tackling projects. I am not meditating. I am not cleaning. I am not mothering.
For the moment, I’m just a human, Being.
and as he shifts, wakes, and wails,
I choose to view these moments as unwasted.