Tomorrow I'm leaving to visit our hometown in Oregon. It will be just me and my kids traveling, and so today I have been doing laundry, making lists, and attempting to leave the house in order (which isn't going as well as I'd like).
But in the midst of all the "to-do's"- there was a moment that was precious. I had gladly given my two children the permission to go outside- more as a treat for me than them, as I had some tasks to get done- and after a few minutes they come bounding into the kitchen holding a treasure only a mom could enjoy to its fullest.
In their hands combined were six buttercups, and a purple flower from our back yard. The stems of the buttercups in my daughter's hand were too short to do anything with, and they were a little damaged. My son proudly held a mutilated sixth buttercup and the purple flower- whose stem was bent. And at his big sister's leading, both presented me with their great find.
Although I'm quite focused on tomorrow's trip, and despite the long list of things yet to do, I relished that moment today. For the first time I received flowers from my little boy, and although the bunch looked a little sad and wasn't worthy of a florist shop, I felt like those seven little flowers may well have been a dozen perfect red roses.