60 minutes ago I found myself barefoot and slow dancing in my kitchen with a three year old.
She wanted to be held.
Slow down. Hold her.
We didn't speak.
Minutes earlier I had been making dinner with Pandora---my sole companion.
I began to cry.
I told her I was happy.
She smiled and squeezed my neck.
Someday when she's older, I will hear the song again and remember the night
Talia's three, almost four year old self, held onto me in the kitchen.
This night, when our song chose us.
The past two hours have been tough ones. I have been parentally challenged, to say the least. Timeouts, crying, and sulking...and that's just me. Just thought you should know.