Someday

I read this book to Jacob for the like, the fourth time, and I still teared up when I read it to him. Now that's a book that stands the test of time.



One day I counted your fingers and kissed each one.

One day the first snowflakes fell, and I held you up and watched them melt on your baby skin.

One day we crossed the street, and you held my hand tight.

Then, you were my baby, and now you are my child.

Sometimes, when you sleep, I watch you dream, and I dream too...

That someday you will dive into the cool, clear water of a lake.

Someday you will walk into a deep wood.

Someday your eyes will be filled with a joy so deep that they shine.

Someday you will run so fast and so far your heart will feel like fire.

Someday you will swing high-so high, higher than you ever dared to swing.

Someday you will hear something so sad that you will fold up with sorrow.

Someday you will call a song to the wind, and the wind will carry your song away.

Someday I will stand on this porch and watch your arms waving to me until I no longer see you.

Someday you will look at this house and wonder how something that feels so big can look so small.

Someday you will feel a small weight against your strong back.

Someday I will watch you brushing your child's hair.

Someday, a long time from now, you own hair will glow silver in the sun.

And when that day comes, love, you will remember me.



I usually get that mushy feeling at the page it says I watch you dream. And then I start to tear up a few pages later.



The babies were all whiny at bedtime. Brooke was out-of-control crying, the kind of crying that is only going to be consoled by mama holding baby. So I got her out of her crib and rocked her for awhile. As the babies get older, I cherish every time I get to rock them. Pretty soon I may not get the opportunity anymore. O.k. chances are with three babies, I'll get a another chance, but...



I got a comment posted on my blog a few days ago after I wrote about some of my favorite books and how my love for my children felt. I made the comment that my love for my husband compares little to the love I feel for my children. It wasn't meant to mean that I didn't love my husband. I do love Scott. (Scott, I love you and I know I don't tell you enough) And I think the family unit is important, doing this as a family, taking time just for Scott and I are all important. But I feel like my children are my top priority. I worked hard to bring these kids into the world and I don't feel guilty letting the world know that they are my number one priority in raising them to be nurturing, caring citizens in the world. I'm fortunate enough to be able to stay at home with them and sometimes that means my husband works crazy hours for us (or it can mean that there is just a lot of crime out there too).

This country has a high-divorce rate and that doesn't even take into consideration the couples who have gone their own ways that never did get married. There are many families whose priorities are pretty "skunked" up. There is a lot of putting oneself first and a lot of material obsession with this world. We all have to take care of ourselves first - mentally and physically - but that's not what I'm talking about.

I give myself to my children so that they have a soft place to fall. So that they learn self-confidence, self-love, independence and they function in the world.