Grab the two piece out of the closet. Little lemons swimming in a backdrop of blue on stretchy fabric take a bit of attention and care to tug over a one-year-old’s head. By the time my friend showed me how to use swim diapers and we applied sunscreen and found the sun hat and water shoes, I was tired. After we arrived at the neighborhood pool, only a block away from my house, I laid out the towel on the grass and turned to set the baby down while gathering more of the things.

In my turning back, I noticed a small ladybug crawling up near us, moving slowly while moseying about the new terrain of a worn beach towel. In a brief second, lady luck reminded me how lucky I am to have a little one to share in the delight of a summer afternoon.

We splashed. My quads hurt from squatting in a pool filled only with eighteen inches of water. Baby found new confidence in a new space, and I, worthiness in a community space as a new mother.

The lady bug reminded me of the magic in ordinary afternoons. Beauty in baby toes covered in used swim shoes and knees ruffed up by the bottom of a tiny pool. Beauty in the wrestling out of clothes and into wet sleeves and in the lingering smell of sunscreen when the afternoon sun dips and play time turns to nap time.

I want to be present for the lady bugs and all of the beautiful things it takes to get us to where they are – out there in the grass, moseying about.