I often joke with my husband that I have to live two days in the future if I want to actually be prepared for anything.

My mind, my body, and my life are in constant forward motion.

“We have to finish breakfast so we can do our morning jobs; we have to finish cleaning up so we can play; if we get all this laundry folded we can read before it’s time to make lunch; let’s hurry and finish lunch because if the girls get to their naps on time we can go outside and play before it’s time to start dinner;” and on it goes.

Being prepared and planning are vital. They allow me to enjoy so much more than survival with my children. But every now and then something happens and all the forward motion stops.

A hug.

A simple, spontaneous hug from a little girl.

All of them have done it to me; and I love it. It surprises me every time.

Countless times during the day do I pick up a child for one reason or another. Normally it’s driven by that forward motion, transporting them here and there.

But when they hug me, here and there and plans and schedules fly right out the window.

Today it was Mckayla. When I carried her into her room to lay her down and began singing, she laid her head on my shoulder… and just stayed.

How can something so simple be so wonderful? Everything else fades away and I’m just a mom holding a precious, soft, fuzzy-headed little girl. who’s hugging me.

Roses: someone else can stop and smell you; I will stop for this.