I went out last night, it was glorious.
I sat in a tight circle with a group of stunning women. Over cool wine and warm food, our stories unfolded, our words gifted.
There’s nothing quite like that time with girlfriends, is there? When the conversation ebbs and flows and you can almost see the golden threads of friendship multiplying, and tightening.
When I noticed we were no longer squinting into the sun’s light, I knew I had stayed out late.
I also knew that sometimes that return into the folds of want and need and now and give, can feel tricky.
So this morning, when my kids came down the stairs and into the kitchen and placed themselves onto the stools in birth order, I noted the sweetness of their sleep kissed hair and eyes and cheeks and softened our back to together in the best way I know how.
I gave into yes.
I let mess and silly and new braid our way.
These fibers tell a different kind of story. They’re fine, intricate, bold. They glow magenta in the morning light.
Nine years of mothering tell me this.
So this morning, I passed my heartstrings their bagels and bananas with deft hands, but held onto their milks with tentative ones.
They watched me with lit eyes in different, but matching, shades. Cocoa, almond, hazel.
“What are we doing?” They demanded to know.
So I told them.
How to Paint with Overflowing Milk
- Pour cups of milk ¾ full. Consider chocolate or strawberry milk, or adding food coloring for fun colors.
- Place a piece of paper on top of wax paper on top of a tray or baking dish.
- Put a straw in each cup, tell your kids to blow bubbles until the cups overflow.
- Have your camera ready to catch the light in their eyes, and the memory in the making.