It’s not sleepytime, Mama. It’s hugging time. I want to hug you more Mama
Sometimes, I am so tired that I want to cry.
Sometimes, I laugh until my sides hurt and I can’t believe that so much fun could be had with a deflated balloon and an old sock.
Sometimes, I walk past the newborn photos in the wall and caress my tiger-striped tummy, remembering that there was a time when there was no you and I. Only we.
Sometimes, you stand with your hands in fists and anger etched upon your tiny face and I see my own eyes and your dads chin and your grandmothers eyebrows and so many pieces of love, that it’s hard to keep a straight face.
Sometimes, you say things that remind me that one day you’re going walk away right out of my arms and into the world, where there’s violence and ugliness and things are, as you like to say, ‘grumpy’ and it breaks my heart into a million pieces.
Sometimes though, you make my decoupaged heart so full, that I need to close my eyes and remember to breathe. Remember to fill my lungs with these moments that quiet my brain and allay my fears. Remember to wrap your heart in so happiness, that when you do find love, you will shrug it on like an old coat. Familiar and warm.
Guess how much I love you? Right up to the moon- and back.