A Quiet Pause

 

I like to eavesdrop and spy while my kids play.  I think Henry is in the prime of his creative play; I don't know though, maybe it'll get better from here?  I hope so, I hate to think of being on the decline.  And Lily is just getting into it, just learning how to step out of reality into a world where her name can be Annie and she can have seven babies and wear plastic high heels everywhere she goes.
Yesterday afternoon they packed up many of their belongings, loaded my bed with their cargo and went on a long journey in search of gold and treasure. 

I'm usually pretty insistent that they clean up the messes they make.  But last night during our evening round of "operation cooperation" I cleaned up the things they left on my bed because I wanted a few minutes to study the anatomy of their play. While the kids tidied their bedrooms and put all the library books back on the white shelf, I reveled in the details of their creativity and took a moment to feel the quiet, nostalgic glory of being their mother. 
I looked through what they'd packed - a sun hat, some sneakers, their favorite stuffed animals, Lily's lip gloss collection and her beloved body sprays and hand sanitizers from bath & body works, and the gadget bag.  I studied the treasure map taped to my bedpost and smiled at the bandana tied around it, a nice pirate touch.  And I laughed out loud when I opened up the "treasure box" and found all of our yellow legos (bars of gold), all the coins from our loose change jar and...Henry's WWF belt -- in all its gilded glory!

I am the luckiest mom.