Monday, November 07, 2011
My little Rube doing some reading on a snowy Sunday. I love to get my babies' socks on and snuggle them into bed when they are cold. I talk to them in a baby voice... they love it. Their toes always suffer during the winter months. I set aside some time every night to kiss their faces. Some prefer less, some more. Ruby lets me eat her nose and cheeks. She knows I will nuzzle her for as long as she lets me. Even as an infant, she always let me. Grace puts up with it. Lillie will tell you flat out: no more kissing! Tada lets me if she's distracted or is drinking milk.
When I close my eyes and think about my babies, all I feel is warmth and skin and tiny freckles and shoulders and socks and shoes on the floor and crackers and tears... a few birth marks. Some teeth. Some questions. Papers and pencils. Change. And knuckles.
Time is getting away from me. I hopped on a sled and it's tearing down the hill. The cold wind in my face, I don't stop myself, I keep going. It's good, after all.
I had two hours to myself this afternoon. There was inversion and the temperature outside is less than desirable. I put on Pandora, my space heater, edited some family photos and let the heat and energy of life and love bounce off the walls of my chest. It's another day and I am happy.