her milk doesn't run down her chin and pool around her neck anymore. she has hit her stride, growing full speed. she carries her weight in her thighs, you will battle that for eternity dear child, i know this all too well. though i am exceptionally thankful for wrinkles and rolls and a nice round face.
most days i think i am at peace. our jarius baby, causing my faith to both solidify and waver, with her entry and existence. the peeking in repeatedly is normal, right? doesn't every mother hover with one hand on their babies back to make sure air is inhaled and exhaled? she sleeps right beside my bed in her pack and play though the others moved to their own room at three months.
i have had bunk beds for the big kids since before she was born. just a little paint and another mattress and we are ready for the move. the big kids will share a room for a while so baby girl can have the nursery all to herself. i paint them slowly, with a shrug, it's hard to paint with little ones at my feet. they are still undone.
that's what i became once again last night. unsure exactly what brought me from my slumber but it did so in a frenzy. i heard something, grabbed her and yelled. how she didn't wake up screaming from my man-handling her i will never know. her skin was cool to touch from the coolness of the night and her body limp from dead-to-the-world sleep. she wiggled mid-air and grunted. i apologized to that sweet man of mine that tolerates the crazy so well and laid baby girl back to rest.
motherhood, you are both wonderful and terrifying.
making a decision to have a child is momentous. it is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside of your body.