She Reminds Me

There's so much to do. 

There are dishes in the sink and I optimistically put washing on the line and now its raining and there's another three loads to do and someone has smeared mandarin pieces all over the floor and the Poppet has pulled all the books off the bookshelf again and -

And the Poppet reaches up her arms and when I pick her up she just hugs me. She puts her cheek to mine and she puts her arms around me and nestles her head onto my shoulder and just holds. She holds for a long time. 

And I realise that none of the other stuff matters. 

The stuff that matters is that my little nearly-one-year-old girl hugs me. 

She has another tooth now. Seven in total. She learnt to say 'dog' this morning. She loves crawling into the laundry basket when I put it on its side. 

This is the stuff that matters. I'll do the dishes. Get on top of the washing. The books will be put away. It's not a big deal. It'll be done sometime. 

My Poppet's cheek against mine, her happy gurgle giggle. 

That's a big deal. 

She reminds me.