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Among chaos, peace

I want to show you two pictures, but a little later.
First I want to introduce you to chaos (or at least what I consider to be chaos) via a handy, dandy list:
  • I am sitting at a laptop, pounding out a blog's letters as quickly as I can think of them.
  • The laptop is only three months old, yet some of the keys stick sometimes. These sticky keys are the ghostly reminders that a toddler's sticky fingers have been pounding on them.
  • Four loads of laundry lie in various states of "unfinish." One load is wet. One load is wrinkling. Two loads await their spins. A fifth load already has been tucked away in drawers, cabinets and closets (then untucked by a toddler then tucked again by me).
  • Cups, plates and bowls hang for dear life to a hastily stacked pile of dirty dishes in the sink while a clean set of dishes sits in the dishwasher.
  • A pile of pictures and postcards blanket the floor beside the desk in the guest room. This was the work of the sticky fingers that pounded on the keyboard earlier.
  • Toys lie lifeless on the living room floor, along with pillows and diapers.
  • Moments ago, I succeeded at pulling two bags of trash down to the garage and into the garbage bin, where I found a tiny pink shoe, size 6 and brand new, resting among the recycling. How did that get there? And where is the other shoe in the pair?
  • Spilled milk crusts on the kitchen floor.
  • Toddler handprints harden on the coffee table.
  • And I sit at a laptop, picking feverishly at the keys, writing a blog, the existence of which has to be a miracle because how on dear earth do I have the time to write a blog even once or twice a week?
Well, I'm writing to show you these two pictures. Here they are:


 
 
I captured the first image on Aug. 30, 2011, at the end of my first month as a stay-at-home dad. I took the second today, Nov. 5, 2012.
I took both pictures in nearly the same spot immediately after giving Willow a bath.
In the first picture, Willow is 3 1/2 months old, barely able to move or even feed herself. But she is happy and mischievous. In the second picture, she is almost 18 months old, a full-blown toddler, running all over everywhere. Again, she's happy and mischievous.
And keen eyes might be able to spot hints of Willow's, um, "mobility" in the second picture.
I love Willow's happiness in both photos. I love her mischievousness. I love these things, which these photos captured so well, because, to me, they define the life I inhabited then, and the one I inhabit now.
A fun life. A happy life. A peaceful life.
Even among all the chaos that Willow has brought into my and Cherish's life, I can say, without doubt, she has also showered us with happiness.
And even among all the chaos I described above, I can find hints of peacefulness that our little Miss Willow has scattered about. Even though her touch keeps me busy, it keeps me happy as well.
I had better get back to work ... but I'll be humming the whole time.
 

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