a perfect day

Mother's Day was just a week ago, yet when I look back on my Sunday today, I feel like it could be Mother's Day all over again. It was perfect. And without any expectation. So here it is. The new perfect day.

I woke up to Eliana singing. She has this lovely habit of waking up and singing her whole rep of songs to her babies. This morning the concert lasted about forty-five minutes. Forty five minutes of smiling at her heavenly melodies but also getting to snuggle with my man. When I heard the springs in her crib start to pop and pictured her little froggy legs jumping around with early morning glee, I had to peel myself out of my bed to catch a peek. She was laughing and throwing herself on to her bottom with nothing but pure, blissed out, in-the-moment, abandon. I made her eggies and put on her cd (Moanie's Dance Party 2009). She rocked it to her songs, doing an especially bouncy rendition of, "Wild, Wild Moanie" accompanied by Baby. During all this, I somehow managed to tackle the sink full of dishes and nasty countertops with a Snow White, whistle-while-you-work demeanor. Love that! I managed to fold and put away the eighteen hundred tons of laundry that have been waiting, in annoying little piles all over out house since Friday. And all of this before 8:30.

At which point I packed up my water and treats, leashed my doggie, and hopped on my bike with the confidence of someone who does this sort of thing all the time. Which is a total lie. Riding my bike with Lucy totally scares me. Yet, for whatever reason, I just went for it today and she managed to stay by my side, trotting like the perfect little pup, all the way along the river trail to Casey's pad. There I rendezvoued with Casey and Nici, and ambled up the street to Le Petit for a most perfect latte and spinach/feta crossaint. It was still not even 10:00 and I felt like I had already had this fabulous day.

We then met up with Leslie and piled into the car for a hike in the delicious Bitteroot Valley. The Bitteroot is one of those places that I sometimes forget about. Like the twenty minutes in the car to get there is just too long a drive. I guess it's good that I love all the nature in my 'hood, but this place is just outta hand. One magical canyon after the next lines the side of the road, rock walls and dancing waterfalls, wildflowers and ridiculous craggy cliffs around every bend. We hiked and talked, talked and hiked, hiked and talked, and so on. We ended our journey snacking on huge boulders at the top of a wild series of waterfalls, the roar of the waterfall making it hard to hear each other, giving the moment the cressendo of intensity and perfection that it so deserved.

Our conversation was rich as always. We don't mess around, these ladies and I. It seems we always hit the mark with real talks about being mamas, being wives, being workers and artists and explorers. Being creative and insecure, brilliant and needy. Being complex. And honest. And raw. And open. And beautiful. And strong.

God I love them.

When I came home, Jeff and Elie were all blissed out, all into each other. They were playing in the yard, her in her little pink Patagucci dress, he in his sweet hat and aviator shades. The fridge was stocked because they had gone to Costco, everything put away and organized in the kitchen. The floor had been mopped. The lawn mowed. Our house had that glow about it. That glow that comes when something is really loved and valued. Our yard shone like it came from some fairy tale, the grass extra green, the johnny jump ups smiling with their goofy, colorful faces, the cherry trees boasting perfect white flowers. We played ball with Els. She and Baby climbed and slid down her funny little slide. We hugged and lay in the grass.

Eliana, in her hyper acute sense of the brilliance of the moment, began singing the Barney song and motioned to take each of our hands so we could all three link up and sway like they do on her video. On the great big hug and kiss part, she walked back and forth between us, giving us the warmest, sloppiest displays of affection.

So that's what it's all about. Not being afraid to say what you feel and show what you mean. Taking extra steps to enjoy every single moment, actualize every last piece of beauty.