Accepting the Invitation

There is a lot of parenting advice out there and I have nothing new to add.

I can say that the best advice I have heard involves prioritizing one thing while deferring another. While, "sleeping when the baby sleeps", is nearly impossible because of all that could be accomplished, I never regretted one of those naps. 

These days I'm often still doing the task, it just takes a lot longer. Such as saying yes to reading a book while making dinner. This entails the book next to the food prep and telling Sophia when it is time to turn the page, alternating between reading a recipe and "Amelia Bedelia". 

Sometimes chores or desirable activities are deferred because a little boy with chocolate eyes is looking up at me with arms outstretched. The frequent invitation to pick up this ever growing person means I find myself without arms to do whatever I had in mind. 

Despite a weight which necessitates shifting him from one hip to another, I am honored by his trust to display this vulnerability with his entire being. One day I will no longer be able to lift him and sooner than that he will no longer want to be held. 

I have never been invited to play more often than I am right now. 
Often there is something else I'd prefer to be doing (frequently the "game" consists of my watching a train move endlessly around a track). 

I am reminded of when my own mother was uninvited. 
I always invited her to play dolls with me (because otherwise the dolls didn't talk). Until one day, a young friend of mine told her not to play with us. 
To this day, I think I am more heart broken by this than my Mother was. 
A day comes when the invitation to play is no longer so readily extended. 

Often there is emphasis placed on how quickly the years go, but perhaps more importantly it is that they happen only once. 

It is why I say yes to a little girl who wants to tell me "just one more last thing" before bed and why I extend my arms to carry a little boy who is capable of running.