Monday, December 05, 2011
It gets harder and harder to blog every week. It would be easy to give up if it weren't for those big beautiful blog books sitting on my bookshelf. With photographs of our last few years of kids and birthing and sleeping and playing. It makes me so happy that I can record our lives.
Late last night Ruby was fast asleep but moved around her bed like a caterpillar. I smelled her hair. And her neck... and I realized I searched for that Ruby smell, the one she had as a baby. I found it there, in her collarbone crease. I hoisted her up her body and moved through the dark toward the bathroom.
There in the blackened hallway, I could feel the proximity of my sleeping family. Grace slept on the edge of her bed, to make room for her possessions that she keeps there in piles. Lillie had taken an eternity to fall asleep and I had just tucked her in. She is so still and peaceful when she sleeps. Tada sleeps in her crib with no side. Dad built a safety rail so she won't fall out. When I look at her sleeping, she looks older and bigger than I remember.
I scooped Ruby from the bathroom and brought her back to bed. Her little body curled upon contact with her cold sheets and I tucked the comforter around her back.
I walked into the living room and looked again at the most magical tree we've ever had. I complained to Jake about the subject of trees earlier this weekend, so he drove to fetch one. It is the most beautiful, magical thing I have ever seen. Truly. And it smells like a forest.