Morning Has Broken

The pitter-patter of little feet at 3am is deafening. The offender vaults herself onto our bed, heedless of the position of my head, as she lands almost on top of it, and then snuggles under our down comforter.

I peer over at her, pigtails flouncing about as she gets herself settled, and am rewarded with a sleepy smile. Lifting her head and struggling to get closer, she plants a kiss on my tired cheek. In no time at all, her snores are rattling the air, and I am left sandwiched between DH and my Little Love.

I lay there quietly, waiting for her snores to get deeper and more relaxed, so I can lift her out and place her back in bed. This is a nightly routine for us, and sometimes I am able to drift back to sleep for awhile. But not tonight.

I snuggle closer to this littlest one, and her chubby hand brushes my cheek. I kiss her baby fingers and listen to her breaths slow down and her sighs get deeper.

But still I don't move.

My insomnia at this time is annoying, to be sure. But it also gives me the ability to cherish this time with my little girl. These days are fleeting. No doubt about it. And rather than get all weepy and regretful, I'd rather indulge and be grateful.

Eventually, I lift Little Love out of our bed and gently carry her through the hallway to her own. I tuck her into bed and tell her I love her.

As I leave I hear the sweet voice wafting above the noise of the fan... "I love you too, Mama."

:)