Last night was one of those really wonderful nights where you actually run the risk of sighing gloriously out loud, spinning around in a circle and twirling your skirt while Cinderella's talking animals join you in the Hallelujah chorus. And then there was this morning.
I fancy myself an amateur children's room designer. I'm now on the 3rd room I've decorated for Elliott, and I'm just getting better each time. I searched and searched for the perfect fabric for the rocking chair back in 2005-2006, spotting it one night on the way home from the Tupelo airport in a shop that was backlit for night. I screamed out, "That's it! That's the fabric!" Mom and I returned when they were opened, I bought the not so cheap fabric, and Mom paid to have the chair recovered. I dreamed of all the time I would spend rocking my baby when he came home. Well, for some reason, he and I didn't rock that much in that chair. But now, it is the best reading chair on the planet. We get in that chair and we read book after book. And then I pull out the new potty book, and he shows his dislike for its ideas. But I digress.
Then we turned on the music and danced in his room, burning some calories (woo hoo!) and having a blast. And I thanked God for this special gift, this complex being who can make my heart sing on Tuesday night and my nerves crumble on Wednesday morning. Who knows what today will hold.
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