Today I ate a long, leisurely lunch. Yes, I feel this is blog-worthy. I have no photo evidence of this lunch, or of my lovely, adult-luncheoning friend, because I ditched my cell-phone again about two years ago. I rarely take “the real camera” out unless I’m expecting some big-photo moments. When big-photo moments actually happen, I rarely think to snap a picture. It’s a conundrum I’m hoping to solve rather quickly, as I fear my head is running out of hard drive space–or however that works with brains. But my camera is rarely present for the big smiles, anyway. The big smiles come like an unexpected rain. And unexpected rains cause the big smiles, too.
When the sixteen chicks that I’ve raised for eight weeks indoors have to spend their first rainy night outside, I don’t think to grab an umbrella…I just gasp and run. When the downpour turns torrential as I’m coaxing chicks from under the stairs and into their shed-turned-chicken-coop, I smile. When I lean out of the coop, head directly in the runoff, to scoop frightened chicks and toss them into the hay, that’s when the big smile comes. And when I return to my front door, dripping from cold rain, my children’s wide eyes turn to big smiles, too.
When my nine-year-old princess-turned-farm-girl runs toward me with a frog in her outstretched hands, my big smile mimics hers. When she says, “Mom, now I’m awesome like my twin!” and I grab her face and smoosh her nose with mine and scold, “You’ve never been anything but awesome!” we’re both smiling ear-to-ear.
When I cuddle and rock my nine-year-old sunshine right out of a sullen mood, and she looks up at me and squeezes my neck with a “Mom, I really want to stay little!” Well, tears hide behind the big smile with that one.
When my seven-year-old daughter peddles her first two-wheel bike with the excitement of an Olympic event, my heart might burst from all the smiling.
When my seven-year-old son conquers math and ninja kicks his way through Bible drills, there are big smiles and high-fives for all.
When my daughters set up chairs outside and invite us to their moonlit performance…
When my sons sit side-by-side being brothers when no one is watching…
When I wake up in the morning and see new little sprouts in the garden…
When I pull up in the driveway after my long, leisurely lunch, and my five year old gets his first glimpse of me as he looks up from playing with caterpillars on the porch, his big smile answers all of the questions of my life in one sweeping, joy-filled blow. And there aren’t any cameras around to catch it…but somehow I don’t think I’ll forget.