Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Breath

Naps are a weird part of each day around here. If we’re out and about, the baby falls asleep in his car seat. If we’re not, he fights naptime with every fiber of his being. If we’re being completely honest, he’s only napped on his own a handful of times. In general, he either rocks/nurses to sleep or doesn’t nap. We both dread naptime a little, but then he finally falls asleep and it’s great.
I rush around to finish up a few chores and then I go relax by him. He lies on his little mattress and I sit or stretch out on ours. The fan and the music are off so I sit there and read or write or sew to the sound of his breath. The slow and steady in-out rhythm makes me smile and fills up my heart and makes me want to wake him up to hold him and play with him. It’s soothing and relaxing, melts away any frustration I might have been feeling with him or with our day, gives me the happiest and most peaceful new start once he does wake up with that sweet little I’m-ready-to-play-again! smile.
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(Tent Napping)
Bedtime is even better.
He still fights sleep at bedtime but he fights it a lot less and goes down a whole lot easier. Once he’s asleep, we pepper him with gentle little kisses. We smile at each other and we take some time to finish up some chores and tasks, to read, to play games or talk or get lost in a good TV show together. We say good night and we fall asleep and all is well with the world… and then I wake up.
I always wake up around one, sometimes again around four, and spend a few minutes awake. I don’t fall right back into sleep the way I did before… but I’m okay with it. It’s a beautiful thing to lie there and hear my husband’s breath on one side of me and my son’s on the other. Sometimes they’re breaths are oppositional and sometimes they’re perfectly in sync.
It is a rare night when I don’t lay there and smile and pray up a huge heap of thanks for the amazing gift I’ve been given. This little family might be nothing special to an outsider with a family of his or her own, but this little family is mine and it is beautiful and perfect and amazing to me. Our hearts and souls fit together like puzzle pieces and we all belong to each other. I was already blessed beyond measure the day I became Ryan’s wife, but this? This is almost too much. How can one person deserve so much wonderful and beautiful and special? It is by His grace alone, that’s for sure, because I definitely haven’t earned this slice of Heaven just by being here and doing what I do.
I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever get over this feeling, this strange phenomenon of my heart shattering into a thousand tiny pieces in a good way. It is like a miniature version of childbirth, I suppose. More painful, beautiful, exhilarating and amazing all at once.

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