{ so golden }

I should not be doing this right now. After fourty five minutes, the little voice from underneath the nursery door has finally fallen silent.That means I should straight away head to the kitchen sink and finish washing up the pile if neglected dishes or work on the 3rd and final quilt that is partially laid out on the living room floor. It means I could fix myself a sandwich and change into anything other than jammy bottoms, put on some makeup and fix my hair, or I could vacuum the floor, clean out the refrigerator, or scrub the toilets. All things that need to be done.

But no, instead I am going to sit down and peek in on each one of you dear ladies, to see how your day is going and to tell you how much I love the glimpses I get into your beautiful lives. The friendship. The connection. The feeling of not being the only one. The inspiration. The encouragement.

Instead of doing what needs to be done, I am going to tell you how much I am loving these golden summer days. How every day Annabelle's skin turns a little more brown and her hair a gets a little bit lighter. How cute she looks dressed in orange with her blue twinkle eyes and her small body and it's healthy summer glow. About how I haul the sewing machine onto the back porch, so I can watch her on her swing or play in the backyard. About how much I love the the view of my backyard roses and to feel the warmth of the sun on my face and to listen in on her little pretendings. How she smells just like a little girl in the summer should smell, sticky and dirty and sweaty. How no matter how many otter pops I have allowed her to have, she still asks for more. That she goes around all day saying, " Daddy's my friend. " And tells me, " I love you too Mommy."

How it seems that she has more fun rolling down the hill in our back yard than doing almost anyting else in the world. How that almost everytime she's outside sooner or later, she takes every last stitch of clothing off of her, diaper and all, and runs out into our big back yard, just because she knows that I will chase her down and at least put her panties back on her.

And she loves the thrill of the chase.

Whatever she's doing the big question is always " want to do it with me?"

Of course I do. That is, usually I do. Then there are the times she screams for me to come push her or do this or that, those being the one great big fat exception.

I am going to tell you about our weeknight evenings and how they go by too quickly, with walks to the library and talks of what the future might hold, the occasional ice cream cone, twirling and more twirling, teaching her how to throw a frisbee, or water the flowers with the hose.

For the most part she goes to bed willingly these nights and tells us " and when my wake up...." and because she is just plain tuckered out. " So the dishes wait. The quilt remains untouched on the living room floor. My hair is a mess and I am terrified someone will come to the door and find me still in my jammy pants. But in the meantime there is laughter and sunshine and togetherness and plenty of time to by all means, stop and smell the roses.