Just Write, #1
Posted by JLK
Some of the bloggers I admire (like Steph from Adventures in Babywearing) participate in a writing exercise called Just Write. I thought I’d try my hand at it, though I can’t live up to most of these incredible writers.
I wake earlier than usual; it’s still dark outside. There is a baby on either side of me and I’m afraid to move, fearing I might wake one or both of them. OW is shaving, showering, dressing in a rush because he has to be to court early. The boys are sweating through their footie pajamas, having soaked up the heat of my body. Their faces are relaxed in a way that only a baby’s can be; the tips of their pink tongues sticking out, their mouths dream-sucking.
I’m still in a groggy half-asleep half-awake state and I feel oddly content. It’s odd because I usually wake up dreading the 12 to 13 hours ahead of me that I will be alone with the babies. This morning I feel a little trickle of happiness about this impromptu family of mine.
The Today show is on and OW watches the weather report as he brushes his teeth. Sunny and 75 degrees today, perhaps a few showers tomorrow. Peanut Butter stirs and opens one eye. He gives me an open-mouthed grin and then nuzzles against me. I twist around a bit to give him a little morning susu and he idly pats my breast while he nurses.
OW brings me my coffee, my pills, and the boys’ vitamins as he does every morning, rushed or not. He kisses the babies, kisses me, and reminds me to feed the dogs, who are circling his feet in anticipation of a goodbye treat.
Jelly is now awake and flapping his arms and legs excitedly and I make funny faces at him while Ann Curry talks about a missing child. I try not to listen because it makes my heart ache and I don’t want to spoil this moment. I know we have a just a short window during which everyone is happy and relaxed. I want to relish it, to make it last as long as possible, to be completely present.