Five Minute Friday, and I actually got in on Friday, not Tuesday. Ready? It’s joy we’re discovering today, and I’ve scribbled this one down the last few days on Ann Voskamp’s little booklet.
Go:
It’s a joy that I find when I spoon the mashy, mushy veges and rice and all things baby food into her cavernous hole, and when she spots us eating and she’s not, it’s an indignant cry for more. It’s joy because I’m so thankful I can feed her. There’s mummys in Africa and Syria and their hearts are breaking, aching in one deep sob because they can’t feed their babies. I can’t imagine what that’s like and the why of it all.
It’s a joy that I have milk for her little self and cuddle together in bed, falling asleep all milky and drenched. I know some mummys even here that just can’t, and they say with a sigh they just aren’t a jersey cow. If you look at it that way.
Stop
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