The scene: She was tucked into bed for her nap. A story read. Stuffed animals and blankets gently placed around her. I walked down the hall to finish up Week 3 of Project Life, and inpired by Ali's post of photography tips, took my album outside to photograph Weeks 1-3 to share with you here (which will now happen tomorrow).
I moved the chair across the cement floor so I could stand on it, and after I snapped two photos, the blinds inside her bedroom window moved and a face suddenly appeared. She looked all around until suddenly finding me standing on the chair frozen as though not moving would cause her to decide to lay back down.
After two seconds passed, we both started laughing.
I walked over to the window and snapped a few photos, capturing this one of her dimple and sheepish look of joy.
Ninety minutes later she is sleeping again (after one show please + one story + one more please + one or maybe three drinks of milk), and I've moved to taking photos of my album indoors and letting go of quite a few things on the to-do list.
Choosing to see the joy.
This is how I create space for more patience and love in the midst of toddlerland. This is how I fill the cracks in my heart. This is how open up just a bit more. This is how I find myself surrounded with so much beauty in the midst of the stuff that makes up this life. I do this again and again because at the end of the day, when I take a few moments to just notice, a version of these words so often comes to me:
For more stories about joy and creative self-care, sign up for my (almost) weekly newsletter that is really more like a note from my heart to you.