Tending the Sprouts

Early last May, I shopped for victims. The unfortunate souls? Sweet basil, a few hostas, a geranium, some zinnias, and cat nip. I planted them with loving care and said a little prayer for their well being and survival skills; a green thumb I have not.  But, hope springs eternal, and last May, I clung to hope, because I didn't know what else to do. Private practice didn't fit anymore; I couldn't make any decisions. There were no fresh sprouts promising excitement, nothing to cultivate. I reached total burnout.

Parts of me had gone dormant while I let other parts overrun everything else, choking out the good, leaving weeds. Fortunately, I'm a perennial, not an annual.

Shortly before my last day of private practice, someone commented, "Congratulations! Is this a congratulations?" Now, about once every two days, I'm asked, "So, how are you liking things now?"

Congratulations were most assuredly in order. I like things now. An awful lot. 

Not so much the big things, but the little things. As it turns out, there's this whole world outside of the billable hour. A world that I had nearly forgotten. A world that I've never really known. (I was four years into practice when RJ was born; his toddler years are a blur of special occasions--because everything was a special occasion when I was at work 50 hours a week. New shoes? Special occasion! A trip to Taco Bell? Special occasion!  Bath time? Special occasion!)

Now, there's this world where a trip to the pool doesn't involve emails or phone calls. 

But it does mean getting my hair wet. 

A world where I have 15 minutes to coax baby wisps onto sponge rollers and steal pictures of her story time 'nuggles  with her daddy. 

A world made up of minuscule, mundane moments that I used to rush. (Too soon, he'll stand flat-footed in boxer shorts, and I'll wonder where these moments have gone.)

A world with time for silliness. 

Time for John Deere green--even at 10 in the morning. 

Those little snugly moments that very nearly got lost. 

There's time to explore. 

A world where a little girl has eyes only for her big brother.  

And her big brother knows it. 

A world where a patio, a comfortable chair, and a cool breeze are all you could possibly need. 

Well, some Teddy Grahams and your baby sister might make it just a little better. 

There's this world where my little boy has started smiling like this again. 

And an ordinary Tuesday looks like this. 

Or this. 

Or even this. (Because every woman loves a really nice tote.  Hers is packed with her keys, three Hot Wheels, and an autograph book--because you never know when you'll meet a Wiggle.)

There's a world where basil lives. (I had survivors this year!)

Where tiny hands prioritize and tend to little sprouts that promise something fresh and exciting.  There's this whole world for me to experience.  

For now, I'm enjoying the little moments that I had forgotten and some I never knew.