By Tracy M
At 6:30, Jeffrey crawls in bed with me, and trying to be quiet, gets under the covers and lays his head on my stomach. He likes to listen to the gurgling. Soon Beanie joins us, and wants to use my arm as his pillow, while he rubs my cheek and tells me how much he loves me. Abby begins to chirp from her room, and I peel the boys off my body to go get my girl.
Bouncing baby laughter and plump arms wrap around my neck as I lift her from her crib; she is always so happy. After changing her sopping morining diaper, she then joins us in bed.
Boy on either side, baby sitting on my tummy. Husband is at work already. Thus starts my day.
Chalk it up to the recent move, but lately Beanie spends all day essentially trying to climb inside my skin with me. If he could find a new route to get back inside my uterus, I’m totally convinced he would. Jeffrey LOVES me, and in between asserting his budding independence, he climbs in my lap, plays with my hair, holds my hand and showers me with peanut butter kisses.
Abby- well, she’s 13 months, and needs constant Mama. All day long. Every day.
We all know that Mama’s don’t even get to pee alone. Who here hasn’t been in the bathroom accompanied by a chorus of howls, door-pounding, and little fingers wiggling under the gap beneath the door?
In our family photo album from when I was a child, there is a picture of a dog we had, nursing her litter of 8 puppies. In the photo, she is looking at the camera, and the look in her eye is as desperate as my own- she is trying to stand, and the puppies are all still clinging to her teats, trying to nurse.
I know what she is thinking. She just has to pee.
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