Esmé's Mommy here...
Dark. The quiet time. My date with God. And my me-time. When I can sit at the computer without guilt feelings and do my own thing.
On this morning, I hear little steps stumbling into the room. “My eyes! My eyes!” The bright light in the living room is too much for Esmé’s baby blues, and she rubs at them ineffectually.
She stumbles over to me, and I reach out to her. “Why aren’t you in bed? It’s sleepy time!” I say.
“I don’t want to lie down! I don’t want to lie down…” Her protests die as I pick her up, carry her back to bed, and crawl in behind her.
I pull up the covers and snuggle with her, tucking her head beneath my chin. I embrace the warmth and take deep sniffs of her fruity-smelling hair that is tickling my nose.
Fleeting thoughts of the blog post I could be writing are shoved to the back of my mind. I wouldn’t trade the world for this sweet moment with my baby girl. I’m in love with this little one, I tell you.
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