My Hands

I used to have desk job hands.  They had fingernails that were never chipped or broken.  They were pretty.  They even showcased a beautiful engagement and wedding ring.

This week, the wind was knocked out of my sales.  I found out that my replacement was promoted within 6 months of being at the company.  A promotion I never got.  Maybe that was because I was part time.  But maybe it wasn't.  My self doubt went haywire.  I went through a funk.  I cried.  I got mad at my husband. 

Today I wasn't really thinking about it at all when I was putting together boxes for our "side busines".  I had a lot today.  40 to be exact.  I was just doing my thing.  Taping, stuffing with newspaper, wrapping bottles, taping.  Pretty mundane stuff.

When I finished the 40 boxes, I looked at my hands.  They were ashy and dry.  Cracked.  Black from newspaper print. Fingernails all crooked and broken.  My rings were on my dresser like they always are except for when we go out somewhere out of the ordinary or to church.  Definitely not the hands of my old life.

And yes, my life is different now.  There are no hopes and disappointments of promotions.  But there is money in the bank from our side business.  There are 2 very happy children.  There is a husband who gets cared for much better. 

Overall, those messed up, tired, nasty looking hands tell me that my life if happy and good. 

My Snuggly Boy

It was one year ago today, that you came into my life.  I was scared of you at first.  You were different from what I knew.  You were the scary boy.

And slowly you worked your way into my heart.  Maybe it was the first time you peed on me.  Nope, that wasn't it.  Maybe it was the first time you laughed at your own fart.  Nope, not it.  Maybe it was the first time you pushed a truck across the room.  Nope, not that either. 

All those things were different from what I had known before.  But there is one thing that makes you different that really does melt my heart.  It's the way that you snuggle in and cuddle with me.  You love to be held and not just by anyone.  You love to be held by me.  In the beginning that meant a lot of baby wearing.

But then it was just being held on my lap.  Sometimes asleep.  Sometimes wide awake.  When you get fussy, I know all I need to do is pick you up and give you some cuddles.  You always stop crying.  

I know some day soon, I won't be able to hold you the way I do now.  You will be too big.  But I will always be there for snuggles and hugs.  I hope you never stop loving it.

I know I won't.  

Happy Birthday Snuggly Boy!