3:48am, at the side of my bed:
"my room is too little, I need to sleep in your room."
Who? What? Oh, Seth, what are you doing?
It had only been a few hours since I had gotten up with Hazel for her midnight feeding. I sat up. Ouch...my head was pounding. What is going on? Grumpiness set in. I settled my boy on the floor beside my bed, who had apparently, overnight, grown out of his room. After a half an hour of restless shuffling around on the carpet I asked, "would you like to get back in your own bed?"
It was a day whose end required post-bedtime kisses on their slumbering foreheads. Do I sometimes take two steps forward and three back? Certainly.
But, sometimes on a shiny day full of calm heads and rested limbs, we don't even step at all. We dance and roll and cradle. Seth sends a stream of thoughts my way, unannounced one after the other, "Um, how 'bout we check the tomatos out front again", "Um, how 'bout you build a fort with me". Lucy in lap holds my cheeks in her sweaty hands and without agenda caresses my face and asks, "you okay, mommy?"
I am okay, thank you and grateful for a fresh start each morning. Though some (due to bedroom size discrepencies and other such excuses) are less fresh than others, I am grateful to be at the start.