me {right now}.

I read her books with enthusiam even though I am so very tired. Trying not to wish away this special time that I get with just her. I ask her what songs she would like me to sing tonight as I gently rub her back with my hands that have motherly wear to them. She request Itsy Bitsy Spider, Jesus Loves Me, and Jesus Loves the Little Children. My voice comforts her even though I would never dare to sing by myself in front of an audience. We say our prayers and goodnights.

The door shuts only for me to be able to go and comfort my other little one. I nurse her and think has it really already been a week since she was born? She is nourished with my very own body.

I kiss my husband goodbye as he leaves for work, at 9:30 at night. [He worked an extra full day, but sometimes he still has to catch up during the late hours. This is our norm.]

I lay her fragile body down to make a cup of hot tea for myself. I breathe a heavy sigh.

As my tea steeps I hear our first-born crying. I'm amazed at how I can calm her so quickly with an extra touch to the back and rock of the body. She's back asleep.

I sit and drink my not-so-hot tea now. And I am thankful. Not because my life is filled with glamourous moments or a lot of time for myself. [Because it definitely is not.] But I'm thankful for the ability to comfort and love.

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