Full diaper drops from her hand and hits the floor in the lobby of an office building.
"I done wif dis," says Sophie.
When I was pregnant with my oldest, a wise woman told me, there will be moments in motherhood when you can laugh or cry. Choose to laugh.
I have had the opportunity in the past year to choose. This past week, we laughed a lot.
We met some friends at the Jump Zone and on the way out we saw a poster for Marbel Slab. What's a girl to do? When an overpriced tub of fresh cream mixed with goobers is calling your name, we had to respond.
It didn't disappoint.
Sweet Bunny was curious. Only 2 more months until she gets her own tub of goodness.
This makes me smile. She still sleeps with the same face she did when she was the only princess in the house. Just a babe. I will soon hear her voice and giggles to let me know, she's awake.
Then there's the tiniest one, she's trying to keep pace with her big sisters. She's thinking about crawling. We proudly cheer her on for the moments we can tell she's even thinking about crawling. Patiently waiting and continuing to expect His healing and growth over her body.
Emma loves her Ali Beth. These sisters have a sweet closeness sealed with protection and tenderness. Their little laughing faces make me cry. Tears of joy and gratitude.
No one wins. No one laughs.
The beauty of it is His grace and restoration. Grace in my weakness. Restoration in our relationships when we are humble. And there's something about kneeling down to be blue eyed level with a child and say how sorry I am for my reaction. And how quickly they forgive and want you to hold them.
This weekend we achieved gold medal status in laughter. We swam with friends at the pool and listened to our babies laugh. As hot as it is, I will miss these afternoons once fall arrives. Their sunscreen perfumed bodies, brown shouldered from the sun. Finding wet swim suits throughout the house reminding me of the hours spent jumping and splashing.
We did cut our pool trip short to celebrate a potty victory. She's back in the saddle again.
Chocolate donuts and Tangled panties were in order.
She giggled her way through the store.
The laughter and celebration continued as we watched our friends become Mr. and Mrs. We watched with excitement, knowing they have years of love, friendship, and joy ahead of them.
Marriage. A gift to be treasured.
As I surveyed my closet, I smiled and chose a deep blue cream flowered dress. The same dress I chose the night Chris asked me to be his, forever.
I am finding sometimes we can't help but cackle with laughter, other moments, the tears fall whether we want them to or not. Whether little ones are watching or not. We laugh till our bellies ache. We cry until our faces are puffy and pink. And He delights in it all. He knows the tears of a mama, fighting for her baby's healing as she learns to laugh when the bumps appear. Laughing at the enemy's attempts to make her worry it's another tumor.
Laughing, not worrying, when her baby vomits because she knows her peace comes from the things unseen.
Her hope comes from Him.
My girls are professional laughers. Sweet giggles are their default. Their first form of response.
They're onto something.
Lord, soften my heart that I may receive the way she does. How Sophie easily dropped that which was weighing her down in her moment of independence and adventure.
Atta girl, I'll follow your lead. Choose to laugh.