Just Write

Things always come easier when there is sleep involved.

My world involves sleep {today}. 

As I was cleaning out my computer, I ran across the video we took three and a half years ago of Leah's birth. 

A whole world of blood and horror and clinking of metal and stitches was happening on the other side of that curtain, but on the good end, I smelled the smell of new, wrinkly baby and wrapped my hand awkwardly around her tiny body and felt those little fingers caress my cheek and it was the most perfect moment of my life, even as my own body lay still open on the operating table. 

I kissed those tiny fingers and told her, over and over, "I've been waiting for you my whole life." 

Motherhood.

When you sleep and when you wake and when you breathe, you're different.  It's knowing without a single second's pause that you are no longer your own.  That you live to kiss that head and put Cars bandaids on the mosquito bites so she won't be tempted to scratch them.

The window of nap time has grown from one hour to nearly three - long enough to collect my thoughts.  Long enough to take my own nap if I need or want it, even when there are long to-do lists and dinners to plan.  Long enough for all of us to rest and regroup so that the afternoons aren't so long and exhausting, and less often result in melting and rejoicing when bedtime comes.

In the quiet, I often miss the noise, even as much as I need the pause before the crescendo.  He will wake first and call me to open his door.  I will find him standing in his crib, red faced and heavy eyed, bouncing on the side in anticipation of my arrival.  Teddies and blankets on the floor after he joyfully chucks them over the rail, he will stretch on his tippy toes so that he can point to show me his handiwork and proclaim: "THIS!" with a wide, almost-toothless grin as I too appreciate his cleverness. 

Together, we will claim his big sister from sleep.  Her sweaty hair will cling to her neck as she slowly opens her eyes.  She insists on wearing winter pajamas and burrowing into her blankets even though it is 92 degrees outside and I've got two fans and the AC running.  She will hug and kiss her brother first thing, and he will open his mouth wide to kiss her back.  When he drools down her cheek, she'll cry, "Gross!" but she'll go back for another one seconds later.

These two. 

They are my heart.

My sweethearts, I will be there to rejoice with you at your accomplishments, big and small.  I will wipe away the sticky hair that is plastered to your face.  I will pray that you always love each other fiercely.  I will smile at you when you wake.  I will hold your hand and help you say your prayers.  I will put on the Cars bandaids and scoop you up when you fall and and let you make mistakes and help make sure that you are ready to venture forward without me when the time comes into your own happily ever after. 

I will love you.  Just as you are.  Just as you need to be.  For every single milisecond of my life.