Hey there, my sweetheart, my joy. It’s 2:30 in the afternoon
and you’re supposed to be napping like your brother in the crib next to you.
How he hasn’t come to yet bewilders me. I only say this because the clunking
from your baby dolls hitting their mini cradle beside your bed is enough to
wake even the deepest sleeper. But alas, his slumber hasn’t been interrupted.
The noise must be a familiar occurrence to him as you avoiding sleep in the
afternoon has become the norm and the phrase please read quietly has fallen on deaf ears.
You missed me peaking in at you a few minutes ago. My
displeasure of you still awake left quickly as I took you in. You are
breathtaking. I can’t believe you are mine, flesh of my flesh. I watched you
ever so gently hug your baby and with the utmost care lay her down to sleep.
Then it struck me, why
did you do it all so gracefully, so carefully, so lovingly?
And it’s because of me.
Me.