Just the right size

Want to do a dance? Yes, I say and take the little one’s hands in mine. Let’s dance. I scoop up the girl too – she’s a sitter now – and twirl her in my arms. "Hakuna Matata" is playing on the computer and we three are twirling in the living room. It is close to bed time, but sleeping can wait. We must dance first.

Where’s the part where he eats the worms, mom? The song is from a Disney movie that plays on the screen while we rock and sway, bop and dip, to the beat. Their smiles are worth a thousand winning lottery tickets. I snap a photo with the memory card in my head and save it in my brain for only the rainiest of days.

Such young versions of themselves, they are superhuman. A 10-month-old who seems to connect as if her soul were dialing the number to mine. An almost 4 year old who is independent, grounded and reflective like a Buddhist monk.

In this moment, the dancing, the lip to lip kissing, the rubbing of noses and squeezing of soft doughy skin, fills my soul like sun lighting a new day. I will never forget these people – just the right size – in this living room. I don’t want them to grow, although I know they must. They are my plantings so I water and weed and watch them blossom. Spinning and laughing, drinking in the night's freedom, I watch as they take my breath away.