Wednesday, August 20, 2008
This morning, all I can think about is last night.
The house was silent save for the whoosh of breath against my arm. With one dog curled in one arm, the other curled against my side and my husband's head on my shoulder, my mind raced.
I thought of Miss Pickles and where her adventures would lead. I thought of the animals in the Land of the Flowered Bed and Calli and her candy creatures. I thought of Bryant in Missing Wings and the dolphin book poor Emma is editing so I can send it off.
I thought of what to fix for dinner tonight, and what I could bake this weekend. As my mind tumbled and swirled with thoughts of stories to write, works of art to create and things to say, I looked down.
And then I watched.
I watched Bear's peaceful face as he wuffled into my arm, his head slowly inching back until it dangled off my elbow.
I watched Bitty curl up closer to Ben, her tiny head cupped in my hand. She sighed, and her warm breath made my fingertips tingle.
Then I watched Ben protectively bend around Bitty in his sleep, wrapping his arm so it cradled her and sliding his hand over mine.
I thought about how I was the last one up, and I'd be the first one up tomorrow. There are a million things to do, I told myself. Things I could be doing right now while everyone's sleeping.
But I stayed and watched them sleep.
Their soft pink bellies rose and fell; their faces smooth and sweet. My heart swelled and my chest tightened as I realized the three beings I loved the most were all content and curled up next to me. Whether it's afternoon, morning or night, the one thing that always brings me to tears is this sight.
It's not just the fact they're all curled together or that the puppies roll over and paw the air in their sleep, acting out their dreams as I try not to giggle. It's not watching Ben trying to breathe while a dog drapes itself over his face.
It's that at that moment, when I actually stop my whirlwind of production and sit still, it really hits me. I can't tear my eyes off them. I can't get enough of them. It's all I can do to put them in their bed at kitchen tonight. Even after I'm curled up in my own bed, the memory of their sighs and wuffles still haunts me.
Because at that moment, I realize these tiny little beings are not longer able to fit in my palm. I realize that these small creatures are growing and changing every day. Just as our lives are growing and changing every day. One day, it won't be just the four of us. There will be more. And then things will change again. And again.
I won't always have to drag myself to the dull beige world of cubicles. Ben won't always be so exhausted that holding Bitty for five minutes puts him to sleep. The Babies won't always pee on the carpet and race across the living room flinging shredded towels and toilet paper in the air.
They will grow up. Things will change. And while I'm sure we'll love every minute of it, it's at this moment I realize it's going too fast. There will always be a million things to do, a million stories to tell and a million ideas to create.
But for now, I'm still thinking about last night.
And watching them sleep.
Never fear Invisible Friends! Tomorrow will be the evolution of tasty meat pies and the Blond Duck's attempt at culinary sophistication, then Friday and Saturday will hold two brand new Miss Pickles! And coming soon--the Land of the Flowered Bed and Candy Animals return (separately, of course!) Hooray! Keep reading!