My Magazine Moment

When I was a child, my mother, in her typical manic depressive type of way, would decide, typically on christmas that we as a family needed to “look” better.  She was shooting for that magazine shot, perfect house, with a perfect family on a perfect day.  It’s the type of thing an ad exec is thrilled you notice and prays to the marketing gods every night you try to emulate.  My christmas’s were plagued by the magazine moment.  Without it my mother would plunge into her holiday depression and the perfect christmas would get sidelined for mom’s epidsode.  It was not how I would in a perfect world want my child to remember the holidays.
But today, I did have my magazine moment. My poor child has gotten his first cold, which is another post entirely as having a baby w/ a cold sucks balls!  He has been sick for two days and slept poorly for the same, this morning at 6 am he got up, per usual.  And to be honest I was too tired, to care.  My husband, got up, and changed his diaper before asking me what I wanted to do with him, obviously knowing the baby was hungry and with me still breastfeeding it was either get my lazy ass out of bed or ….
say ….
let’s just bring him into bed with us, which is something I never do.
So in the dark we go, back into bed, me baby and husband. The poor thing snots and struggles through every breath as he attempts to eat and when he is done, he gurgles and coohs at us in the dark, as I imagine he thinks this is prety cool.
Finally about 30 minutes later he is tired, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head but can’t sleep because he has no idea of what to do with himself when he’s in bed with the both of us.
So I gently carry him back to his crib where he immediately falls to sleep and I delicately walk back to our bedroom climbing into to bed, careful to not make a sound.
Two hours later, I awake to blissful restfulness; the baby is awake, but seemingly well rested.
I pick him up, bring him back to bed and after his second breakfast I give him to my husband who watches him while I take the hottest longest shower I have had in months. 
Once dressed and properly groomed I walked into the kitchen were I had breakfast and hot coffee waiting and my child was sitting happily in his chair. 
As I sat eating my pre-made breafast, feeding my son his oatmeal and watching my husband finish his eggs while he told me jokes, I couldn’t help but think that this is my magazine moment.
A perfect Sunday morning, with a happy mom, dad and baby.  The dog curled up by our feet and the perfect balance of anticipation for the day and happiness in the moment.
This was that shot that parenting magazine takes and makes us all feel like if we haven’t accomplished this every single damn day we aren’t doing something right. 
This is it, don’t breath, don’t move, its perfect right now.
There are so many perfect moments in my life, so many that I don’t pay enough attention to.  So many that I brush aside because I’m busy. Because the baby is crying, because because because.  The magazine moment is life, it isn’t always happy it isn’t always perfect but it is; always is. 
Today I had a beautiful magazine moment, sick baby and all.
Tomorrow morning in the rush of packing the baby up and packing my lunch, trying to prep dinner and get myself ready will be another magazine moment.  Because it will be real and I’ll take reality over a magazine any day.