Today Kamal and I danced to Rodrigo y Gabriela while Adam vacuumed the house and then took pictures of us.
Later, after a Facetime chat with Adam's parents during which Kamal giggled and burbled and then fell fast asleep, Adam and I stole kisses.
When you have a baby, everyone tells you to enjoy every second of it. And some days that's really hard to do; some days you're barely able to keep your eyes open or from bursting into tears. There are days where trying to enjoy every second just feels like one more task to complete, on top of and simultaneously with cleaning spit-up off of everything and changing a diaper and breast feeding and returning work emails and scheduling doctor appointments.
Today was not one of those days. Today was an ordinary day, no more or no less sleep-deprived and spit-up-filled than any other, but today was golden. I was with my family, we are all healthy and safe and sound, and I know that one day, when Kamal is too big to carry while we whirl together around our cozy cottage, I will look back at Sundays like this with wistfulness. I will remember clipping Kamal's tiny nails while he slept in my lap. I will remember Kamal screaming with laughter while Adam nuzzled his chubby neck. I will remember Toby swiping his huge tongue over Kamal's face before I could intercept, and Kamal's little hands reaching delightedly for Toby's big, grinning, furry muzzle. I will remember dancing with my baby, the impossible softness of his hair under my chin, his fingers wrapped around my finger, his unique Kamal smell, like cocoa and violets and vanilla and lambswool. I will reach back in my memory for this golden day, and I will find it and know without a doubt that even if I had only lived this one day, more joy was mine in my life than I ever knew anyone could expect.