I take so many pictures of you, trying to preserve all the details that make our ordinary days so joyful and peaceful. I want to show you everything when you get older and tell you how great God is to know you’d fit perfectly in our family.
But sometimes pictures just don’t do it.
We’ve already started traditions, even though you’re only 14 1/2 months old. Daddy usually puts you to bed. It usually starts with a book and always comes with a song. He rocks you while you hold the soft pink blanket (one of two, actually) that you like to snuggle with. Then he lays you down, always the opposite direction of the way I lay you down for your naps. You don’t care which direction because you always get yourself on your stomach in a more comfortable position.
You go to bed a few hours before us. So after Daddy and I have watched a TV show or played some Boggle, I come in your dark, quiet room and check on you. I don’t know what I’m “checking” for. I just cover you up with another blanket because you usually have the soft, pink on twisted beneath you, usually up near your face. Sometimes you’re still sucking your thumb. Usually your head is in the corner, pushed up against the bumper, and your bottom is in the air, higher than the rest of your body, thanks to your knees that are bent beneath you.
Then I gently close your bedroom door, but not all the way because to completely close it would mean I have to pull real hard, and you’d probably hear it. That’s what happens in older homes when the doors and their frames are slightly off. So I’m gentle and quiet and then I go tell your Daddy how you’re sleeping. Usually he’s brushing his teeth or taking his contacts out, and I’m waiting for him to get out of my way.
When we get in bed, I always have something to say: Cate is so much fun. Did I tell you that she …? Our daughter is so precious. She’s perfect for us. Have I ever told you how thankful I am that I get to stay home with her?
Something like that.
Somehow checking on you when you sleep makes me think all these things that your Daddy already knows but I always feel the need to tell him. And he doesn’t seem to mind because he usually echoes the sentiment with his own example.
After some other banter that isn’t nearly as story worthy, we go to sleep, thankful you’re just down the hall and tucked so tightly into our hearts.
I love you, sweet girl.
sarah schultz says
Kristin, you are such an amazing writer. Really, so inspiring. Cate will love this some day.