Wednesday, November 5, 2014

tears and knees on floors.

here i am, sitting in a half dark house.
i'm chilly, but in the way that almost feels good.
it's not four o' clock yet, but outside it is already grey.
babies are sleeping.
babies.
babies - my two babies.

sometimes i don't believe my own life.
don't believe my own blessings.
sometimes i look around and forget to call it grace - the everyday things that happen here.
how do i forget it?
in this house where tears spilled into cracked floors for a child lost,
where knees bent and prayers flowed out for sons waiting?
i look around and realize all of it - all of it is grace. 
because though the child is still lost,
the sons have all come home. gone home. 

wait. now i hear him.
it isn't as quite anymore, the soft murmurings of undecipherable babble,
the little one who just a few months before couldn't stand the thought of being alone,
would panic upon waking - is it really him?
he's laughing now, alone in his room. i hear a giggle.
he's waiting for me.

i get him.
bring him out with me to the dining room.
put on a sweater.
he's crawling. smiling. 
he's mine. my son - who once was considered abandoned, but not now. 

in the other room, one still sleeps. 
i know i'll have to wake him, since i heard him playing earlier.
i rub his back and he snores. 
he yawns, stretches,
"mama!"

i think about how tired i feel.
i look outside.
it is november fifth, and our pumpkins sit, uncarved.
i wonder if we have enough leftovers for dinner.

but this time - this day - i choose not to care about those things.
not to care about the boxes that are still unpacked after moving out of my cube at work.
not to care about the dust on the bookshelves,
the crumbs on the floor... actually, when i look closer, they're everywhere.
but it's okay.

now finn is up, and he is drumming, loud, and laughing -
because his brother is clapping, drooling.
"Baby Brudder!"
I watch them and the way they look nothing like each other,
but everything like brothers.

a car pulls in, doors slam.
"Daddy!"
Finn is running to meet him.
the dog is barking. 

we go through the evening. 
parts are messy and the toddler has a tantrum about not getting fruit snacks for dinner.
the baby, suddenly, is over-tired, right when we least expected it.
we hustle with pjs, tooth brushing, fight with their hair,
i gather up my wits and bounce the small in the bedroom -
bouncing bouncing until finally he sleeps.
my back hurts - has hurt for days really.
i kiss the big one, and he goes to dad to get rocked.

we do a million things before our heads hit pillows.
sleep just moments before the baby is crying.
slip out of bed. the floor is so cold.
make a bottle. bounce the babe.
lay down.
do it again.

and then it's morning.
so so early.
i pull hard from sleep.
but my babies are home.


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