It's Where I Live

On Sunday afternoons the weekend feels too short, but where I really live is Monday through Friday  at the daycare. Last week I sat on the floor in the baby room while Meg was on break. I leaned my back against the side of the toy shelf and stretched out my legs. The little ones played around me with Parker occasionally coming over and plunking himself on my lap.

At some point in our hour together, Maren decided to pull herself up by holding onto the shelf, but her knee was on a book which slid away underneath her, and she bumped her mouth against the edge of the shelf. Loud wailing ensued and I hoisted her onto my lap for a look at her wounds and a bit of TLC. I popped her previously forgotten bottle into her mouth and she gladly accepted. And Parker, who had just moments before been the one on my lap, decided to lay down on the floor and use my leg for a pillow.

I never imagined feeling so settled in a job away from home, but I am. I like my little kitchen where I can close the door and escape a bit of the mayhem, and I love spending time with the children; getting down on my knee to talk with them, passing out hugs, and hearing them call my name. It feels like I belong there. I hope they let me stay.