These early fall days are somewhat of a pleasure. Suddenly three years have come and gone and I can recall all of the triumphs we shared. I don’t dwell on the challenges, though there have been those too. Three years of motherhood and here I am; a Tuesday in September just having dropped Abigail off at her school. Gwenyth sleeps long and hard, the house, for the first time in her young life, is without sound. She sleeps and I sit at the kitchen table. I make a list at first, arguing that I should produce! or something like that. I move out to the yard where I sit for moments only, but what feels like hours or days. Each year gets better. I don’t know how, but it does. After a long shower I pack our lunch for the picnic we’ll have following Abi’s day at school. Gwen continues to sleep and I so I pack slowly, taking the time to note if all of the essential items are there, I stop to fill a glass with ice. It has only been an hour and half. The sun is clear and cool. I make a quick plan to do something fun with Abi at nap time. I dig through the baskets of yarn and beads and decide we’ll create our own puzzles from cardboard. I arrange the crafts for later. I return to my list and add a few items we need at the store, deciding we’ll make an outing of it later in the afternoon. If the weather stays nice we’ll stop for frozen yogurt too.
When Gwen and I arrive at the school Abi is outside playing with her friends. She is flushed and smiling. She sees us from across the playground and runs to me for a kiss. She doesn’t linger, but waves me back and mumbles something about making a cake out of bark chips. Gwenyth bucks in my arms, wanting to chase the other children and as I place her softly on the ground I notice the leaves littering the corners of the street and gutter. They are migrating beneath the slide. A thought catches me; I cannot remember the autumn before Abi was born. Never has life been more vivid than after having children. What color! What joy!
