The sweetest thing

I gotta say.... When you have your baby girl up on your shoulder, and her @25 pounds feels light as a feather because she's snuggled into your neck just right, the blanket you slaved making wrapped lovingly around her and grasped tight to her face, it's like having a small piece of heaven in the palm of your hand. I love putting Morgan to bed at night. She has a bath, runs around the house for a while during "naked baby" time, her bare tush air drying and her head tucked into the corner of her bunny towel, plays games and sings songs, gets dressed in her jammies, and then settles down for a book before bed. When the time is right I hand her over to her daddy for some snuggles and some kisses, and then I pick her up and settle her in that sweet spot on my shoulder, and we walk away towards her bedroom. She'll chirp "bye bye" and wave to her daddy, as we round the corner near the laundry room on the way to her crib. I'll then walk over and stand on the pastel colored chenille rug we have lying in front of her crib, and I'll stand there, swaying side to side, sheltering this little soul as I did when she was in the womb, talking to her through my heart as I slowly rock her to sleep. After a minute or two I will slide her across my chest until she is lying in my arms, and I'll slowly lie her in her crib, feet first, one vertebrae at a time, until she comes to a stop in a cocoon of blankie, with her baby doll beside her on the mattress. Then I'll lift up, cover her up, and pull the gate slowly, pausing for a second before the resounding crack of the gate as it locks safely into place, her guardian for the night against the boogeyman and her impending curiousity regarding all things labeled "dangerous". She is usually awake still, and as I creep to the door and turn around to grab the knob, she'll raise her hand, wave, and say "bye bye" as I latch the door and quietly walk away.

No matter how my day has gone, or how much of a struggle it has been to juggle working and raising that sweet little lamb, our bedtime ritual brings me back up, and reminds me why I desired to become a mother in the first place. I walk away from her room smiling, grateful for the alone time, yet also anxious for a new day, when I can walk in to her waking squeals, and do it all over again.