Tuesday, May 04, 2010
Sometimes at the end of the day, after the Boy and the Bird are fast asleep, I hold my baby. I lay him on my chest over my heart. I nuzzle my face into his neck and breath his sweet baby smell and his downy baby hair tickles my nose.
We take deep breaths together. He grunts and whinnies and stretches but he always resettles back into me as if there was some sort of magnetic force pulling us together. Who knows, maybe their is such a force between mothers and their babies.
There have been days lately when I haven't felt human. Honestly I feel like a robot mommy. Change the diapers, make the bottles, pick up the toys, bathe the baby, haul the kids to the car, buckle, get the snacks, wash the onesies, etc. etc. etc.
I don't think, I just do. Just get er' done.
But every now and then I snap out of it. I will glace over at my daughter, squatting on chubby legs, stacking blocks or trying to wrap her baby doll in a blanket and my heart sings. I feel more alive than ever.
And at night, when the house is quiet, when I breath with Henry, I am reminded that this is life. This is what it is all about.
And I don't want to miss it.
I will continue on with all the daily chores. I will take care of my family to the best of my ability. But from here on out, I'm making a little promise to myself that I will open my eyes and watch my children grow.