Here, with Her

I could be anywhere else.

The soundtrack terse cellphone chatter and train whistles instead of the Disney Channel singing in the background.

I could be anywhere else.

Steam-rolling my kid into to car to have to drop her off somewhere on my way to work instead of pouring my second cup of coffee and wiggling myself in between the clean and dirty laundry on the couch, sighing equally at the mess and the contentment

I could have to rush off and not linger, snuggling with a warm, blonde-headed wonder as she wakes the morning with her questions and unbrushed teeth.

Sometimes this gets so hard.  This deep desire to be the most present presence in the life of my child.  Sometimes I second guess our choices to live in waiting, not even paycheck to paycheck.  Are we irresponsible? Idealist? Both? To think that we could do this? Be parents? 

And then I see her giggle and feel her twist my hair and things don't rise like smoke, but they seem to clear a little.

I breathe her in and am so thankful that I could be anywhere else this morning, but I am here.  

With her.