A Snowy Evening

Last night was one of those perfect winter nights, when the flurries of the afternoon turned into a beautiful snowfall, illuminated by the brilliant light of the moon. I sat in my living room so content with the world, gazing through my front window and watching my Angel play happily on the floor in front of me. I fixed myself a nice cup of coffee to sip on while I read in this perfect Norman Rockwell scene. *content sigh*

I walked back into the living room from the kitchen with my cup of coffee to see my Angel... standing by the chair, pulling on the computer cords. Oh. I hurriedly set my hot coffee down (I never seem to drink hot coffee anymore anyways) to intervene and redirect. Oh mischievous little Babe, my silly Bella. After tickling and kissing, I put her over by her play table and turn back to hide the cords and recreate the barrier in hopes of slowing her down just a few extra seconds next time. As I turn back I hear "thump" - and I have coffee all over the rug and a little girl with a confused look on her face. "How did that happen, Mama?" (Thankfully it had sat there long enough not to be hot anymore.) Oh my dear Isabella Marie; time to play with Daddy. I bring her down to my husband and let him know that he will have company while he fulfills his Lenten sacrifice. We both have smiles, but I think his is brighter than mine.

I'm sure there is scientific research that confirms exactly how long it takes for a stain to set, but coffee is always immediate. I'm just lucky, I guess. Dinner is cooking and Patrick has a meeting to make shortly, and Bella is going to be hungry soon, too. I rush to grab the carpet cleaner and a rag - no rag, just paper towels. Because they are SO great for scrubbing carpets right? The carpet cleaner is conveniently located under the sink - unfortunately, Patrick jut installed magnetized baby locks and I can't get the ^%#$* door open. ..., ...., ...., Oh, there we go, finally.

My hands are covered in carpet cleaner when I hear the water on the stove boiling over, but that can wait. However, the oven timer cannot. Wash hands, take meatloaf out and turn burner down. Finish scrubbing the carpet. Patrick is laughing at Bella, who is fascinated with him doing push-ups. Look, no stain on the carpet - at least none that you can see in the dim evening light, which counts enough for me. I seize an opportunity and mash the potatoes, heat the green beans, and verify that the carpet is dry enough for an infant. Dinner was great, Patrick gave Bella her bath and made it to his meeting on time, and I fed her cereal and carrots. Life is good.

"Tonight, Lord, I am thankful for my mischievous little Angel, multicolored carpets and Spot-Shot, and microwaves to reheat the food. Amen."

As I'm falling into bed Patrick calls me over to the window to see the Lunar Eclipse. All I can think about, for that brief second, is God's Majesty. There is something indescribable about the moon and stars shining on the snow, and the hush of a winter's night, while wrapped in my husband's arms, knowing my baby is tucked warmly in bed. Welcome back, Norman.