Remember when you were little and you used to picture what motherhood would be like? All those special times you'd treasure forever and ever, because they were so sweet and straight from a storybook? Remember when reality hit you like a sledgehammer and you realized it wouldn't be all peaches 'n cream, and, in fact, the fairytale times would be fewer than the more stressful/obligatory/simply ordinary day-to-day times?
We had one of those evenings yesterday... not the sledgehammer kind... it was a legitimate, straight from the (small town, farm folk) storybook.
Chad and I loaded up the kids and headed to the farm to pick Grandma Connie's garden since she and Grandpa are in Haiti this week. The night was beautiful, the bugs weren't horrible, and the kids were AWESOME in the garden. Not too much mud, lots of fun pickin', and always within eyesight and earshot. That's not even the best part.
As Abby and I were finishing up with the tomatoes, Chad and Jett brought the four-wheeler along and we all hopped on... Jett, Chad, Abby, and me, in that order. We drove around the grove, Kotah sprinting along side to her own personal cheerleaders, and headed to the tree lines behind Grandma Z's house. That's where the magic happened.
Picture a perfectly manicured grove with beautiful trees and the late summer sun beams streaming through as the sun begins to set. Then... you see them. Hundreds of monarch butterflies flying above you as you drive down the row, and you hear your little girl squeal with excitement and your little boy yell and point.
That's when I realized that I made it. I have everything I've ever wanted, and life doesn't get much better.
Here's to the fairytale:).
