Morning

"NaNa!!"

My eyes drift open to the call of my child,wafting down the hall. "NaNa!!" I groggily clutch the last vestiges of sleep to my warm nest in the covers and burrow into the pillow.

"NANA!!!"

OK, fiiiinnnneeee. I roll out of bed and pad sleepily down the hall toward my beckoning son. He greets me with a happy chortle and eager bounce. "NANa!!"

His pajama'ed body cuddles into mine as we head down the hall. He is warm and smells of sleep and needs a large amount of kisses. A running commentary ensues on everything he sees - "Da? Dah. Da! DAH!!" We get him some milk in the kitchen and head back into the bedroom.

Together we stand at the sink, him on his footstool, busily at work with all the items on the sink within reach. As I wash my face, I feel the warm weight of his sturdy body leaning heavily into my side, reaching his baby toothbrush into the enticing stream of water. Our sleep rumpled selves reflect in the mirror, his tousled hair and bright eyes. The house is quiet; his brother is still heavily asleep. The morning sun floats softly through the window. The grass is green, the sky is blue, the babies are sweet.

This is a good life.

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Tim has been sick, so last night he slept down the hall in Gabe's room, away from the noise of the babies, in an attempt to catch up on his health. I tucked Gabriel, who had fallen asleep in the living room at 6 PM and was wide eyed and talking vigorously, into bed beside me, so as to not lay for an intolerable length of time beside him on his cushion that he sleeps on in our closet. Gabriel talked happily into the dark...and then he was sleeping.

This morning I found him snuggled up on the carpet on the floor beside the bed, wrapped securely in his beloved dinosaur blanket. Apparently the floor wins, hands down.