Last Baby

I just came across this while reading another blog:

"A first child is your own best foot forward, and how you do cheer those little feet as they strike out. 

You examine every turn of flesh for precocity, and crow it to the world. 

But the last one: the baby who trails her scent like a flag of surrender through your life when there will be no more coming after--oh, that's love by a different name. 

She is the babe you hold in your arms for an hour after she's gone to sleep. If you put her down in the crib, she might wake up changed and fly away. 

So instead you rock by the window, drinking the light from her skin, breathing her exhaled dreams. 

You heart bays to the double crescent moons of closed lashes on her cheeks. She's the one you can't put down."

.Barbara Kingsolver.

Yesterday Brecken did not want to sleep when we got home and I ended up holding him for three straight hours, even though I had planned on folding a massive amount of laundry during that time and make a Walmart run.

At the end of the day it didn't bother me the laundry was still piled up.  For whatever reason Brecken wanted to be held; by me.  I truth be told, I wanted to him even more than he wanted me.