Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Only in my house
This is what I get to see every night when I rock Reagan to sleep. I lay her in my arms in the rocking chair and look down at her. When I start to sing she looks up at me with awe. She watches me until her eyes will no longer allow her. They start to roll and she rubs her eyes. Soon her eyes will remain closed and a few minutes from now her body will start to switch and then relax into sleep. For about 5 minutes she is sleeping but not yet deep sleeping. When I look down at this beautiful, peaceful face I wait for her mouth to fall open. Then I know she has completely let go. I will still hold her for a few more minutes though. Special moments like these makes me fall even more in love (if that is even possible) with her. Nothing else matters in the world than that vulnerable little face. Her head relaxed on my arm, her hand placed gently on my chest, her perfect little mouth open and her eyes seeing only what she can see. I am allowing myself more of these moments instead of dirty laundry moments. The moments where my heart quickens and my blood pressure rises. The moments where I am frustrated and yelling because it can only be MY house that looks like chaos. It is only my house with half eaten apples behind the couch, cheerios strewn across the floor and fingerprints on the windows. It is only MY house that the beds aren't made and dirty laundry has a mind of its own. BUT it is only MY house that I have a perfect little Reagan become a part of me again as we rock.