these are the days of cheerios and peanut butter and jelly, afternoon snacks and dinners half eaten. days of 7am wake up calls in the form of little ones with empty bellies. babies that reside on the hips of their mamas, while one handed tasks are mastered. these are the days of laundry that is never done and sinks rarely empty.
good and bad days.
we were made for community and doing life together. we were made for full kitchens and friends that know exactly where to find the silverware drawer. we were made for carrying each other burdens and babies on our shoulders.
i started pulling out plates from the cabinet with a clatter as little ones ran in and out of the door, not one remembering to shut it behind them. i looked around missing baby girl and found her held tight in the arms of my friend. she swayed back and forth as mamas do, letting my girl and the one that grows in her belly bond.
conversations went from schooling to housing to food and life with lots of babies in tow. our talks were interrupted and unfinished, as expected with eight little ones at foot. we pushed babies five deep on that old metal swing set. their smiles as wide as the ocean blue. wind sweeping locks of golden brown, red and blonde, to and fro.
disputes were settled and boo-boos were kissed.
small tokens were exchanged among friends as we said our good-byes.
when everyone was gone and the house back in order, our bodies fell heavy into the beanbags on the living room floor as we relished in the goodness of doing life together.
*joining emily for imperfect prose