Sleeping kids

I'm almost embarrassed to admit how many pictures I have on my phone of my kids sleeping. Almost. It's harder to get good pictures of the older girls because they don't fall asleep until well after nine, they wake up before six, and naps are a thing of the distant past. But I do snap them of my two growing babies.

Today I had to wake Timmy from his nap, which is often unusual because he is already beginning to sleep less and require less time in his room. I peeked into his room and found him passed out on top of a pile of ripped board books (my babies have destroyed all my best books!), and I tiptoed to his bed and curled up beside him. His eyes fluttered open at the movement of the bed, and he moved his forehead forward just enough so our foreheads were touching, and then he shut his eyes again, and we just remained there for a few minutes. The warmth of his skin on my forehead made me smile. I could feel the faint beat of his heart as I place my hand on his, and it just reminded me of the closeness I always felt during my pregnancy and nursing periods with him.

Watching my kids grow up is the best; it really is, but it is also the worst in a sense too. I can't remember the last time I held Mya close enough and still enough to feel her heart beat, and Genevieve shies away from my hugs and touch so much that the connection we've always had is getting stretched farther apart because of school, sports, friends, other interests, etc. It's a tricky thing to navigate, watching your child leave you behind. And it's really only the beginning.

For now, I try to relish the time we spend together laughing, playing, tickling, and baking. It may not always involve touch, but the connection is there, and my heart feels it. I will also continue to sneak in on my sleeping babies and cuddle them to death for as long as they let me.