The last couple of months have been busy – we are preparing to move into our first home. As the big day is getting closer, and the trips to Bunnings become more and more frequent; and my head and my phone are full of endless to-do lists, I notice how much less present I am. For my boy and for myself too.
On one such day that was filled to the brim with organizing the renovations and the move, trying to keep the current place in order, and scrambling to get dinner ready before its set time, Daniel, who is perfectly aware of what is happening, requested to blow bubbles together. Right in the middle of said dinner preparations. At first I got annoyed a bit – too much to do, so little time. But I gave in, sat on the couch, and started blowing bubbles for my baby. And then I saw it – the light. The bubbles, backlit by the rays of the setting sun, were floating gently, and then suddenly bursting into a million tiny water particles, creating the most magical sight. The glowing rim of light around Daniel’s tiny hands as he reached high to make the bubbles burst. The halo of his blond hair lit up by the sun. That pure joy on his face. So I just sat there and blew bubbles. Daniel lost interest and moved on to some other exciting toddler activity, but I went on and on. Just watching the bubbles float and then disappear with a little sparkly bang.
For the next few days, just before five in the afternoon, Daniel and I would pick up the little yellow bottle and blow bubbles together. And on one of those afternoons Daddy was home, and I was able to photograph those precious moments while he was blowing bubbles for our boy. And these photos (and the lesson in mindfulness from my 20-month-old) will be treasured forever.
