Wednesday, May 29, 2013


March, 2012

14th ~ Reading

21st ~ Dancing

8th ~ Library 

If only he'd sleep in bed. At 11am. When I want him to.
We cuddle up together at 11, we snuggle in & I smell his (still) baby skin. His soft curls fall against my cheek & I wrap my arm around his round belly. He holds my hand & cuddles my arm. It feels so good.

In the midst of the talk about new-baby, about big-brother, about change. It feels so very good, to have these moments together. I cherish them with all my heart. My womb-space longs for his babyhood, for the need to protect it & make it last as-ever-as-long-as-I-can. My heart breaks open with the sweetness of him. So tiny & so big.
So much love contained in one little body.

But sleep at 11 he does not.

Instead he loves it too. He sinks into it and soaks it all up. He cannot sleep for the joy of our embrace.
Instead he falls asleep later. And then he's awake much later at night than somebody only just 2 should be.
And really, I don't mind a bit x