Simple Moments

I could hear the first stirrings of morning outside our open window. The sun had not yet left its slumber so I felt justified not to leave mine. The chilly air surrounded my bed but yet I was so warm and cozy snuggled in my pillows and blankets. So I laid there letting my mind wander about the day's tasks. Jon left for the gym and I listened to the familiar sound of the garage door winding up and then down again. Then I waited, for she is very predictable in the mornings.

Sure enough, I hear the pitter- patter of her little feet and see her silhouette slowly push my bedroom door open. I lie still and watch. Silently she tip toes to the side of my bed, her "yellow" in tow. I feel the gentle nudge of her tiny hand. "Mom." Morgan whispers.

I invite her to lay by me, something that we both enjoy sharing in the early morning hours when dad has slipped away and Reagan is still frolicking in her dream land. Dad's side of the bed is cool and free and I tell her she can crawl in over there. No. She slides into the slender space between me and the edge of the bed. I feel her warm little body snuggle into my back and her chilly toes tuck underneath my legs. She quickly adjusts and then silently falls asleep.

And I am awestruck at this simple little person who is so tender and trusting. She feels so safe next to me, and I am overwhelmed with my responsibility as a mother. I see myself as inexperienced and immature and, quite frankly, intimidated by the whole prospect of parenting. Her thoughts of me are quite different. At this point in her young life, I am her world. Am I enough?

But then I stop myself from over analyzing everything, which Jon accuses me of doing quite frequently, and think of how blessed I am to have both of my precious little girls. Not only am I their world, but perhaps they are mine.