The practice of refilling my cup.
I had decided to spend part of Saturday morning in bed with coffee and my laptop to get some writing done. My daughter’s Mama would hang out with the little one to give me a little parenting break. I went downstairs where my family was eating breakfast to make my coffee. Once my coffee was ready, I grabbed my mug, blew kisses to my daughter, and said see you later. As I started to exit the kitchen, my daughter pointed to my seat at the kitchen table. She wanted me to sit there.
Tears immediately clouded my vision. Of course. Of course I belong there, sweet one, sitting with you over breakfast. Every other day of the week we sit together and eat our breakfasts. I went over to my seat and sat down. We chatted for a few moments and did some forehead nuzzles. Then I gathered my coffee, left my seat, and went upstairs to write. So I can have more to give to her. So I could refill my cup.