Oh Baby.

Lillie, seriously.

We spend so much time together. And I love it.

You wrestle me. Like a spider on a wall. Over, under, on, beside. If you could crawl down my throat and back into my warm insides, you probably would.

You will someday see that that's the thing about babies. They demand attention. Because they don't know any better. They don't know it's inconvenient. They don't buy into Mommy's subtle hints that she is busy and needs you to bond with your teething ring. You are a normal baby by that definition and I say, bring it on.

This is what I wanted. Babies. This is what I signed up for. Don't let any of my frustrated moments ever convince you otherwise. Don't let the memory of my tired face slip from your every-day thoughts. Inevitably, it will, as you choose to fill your head with other things and let that big heart of yours spread out among all those who know you. But poured like cement in my mind is your feathery hair, your warm mouth, your strong twenty pound body under my arm as I do my chores.

For now, I will take on the title of Center of your Universe with my head up, sweats on, and you perched joyfully on my right hip.