September 29, 2015


i just got done finishing your nursery, everything washed and folded and put into place. there was a large moth i found under your brother's bed, dead, but still so beautiful. gus asked to hold it, throwing a bit of a fit before i could even gently pick it up to show him. he was large and brown with the same width as a butterfly.

i have been scrubbing the house like crazy, only to watch it turn into a giant mess come evening. i take such honor and care into making our home a soft and clean place, but it seems all my efforts are for not when raising beautiful humans. i am sure one day, far far from now, you'll know what i am talking about. i put away toys only to pick them up again. i wash and put away dishes only to wash and put them away again. it is cyclical and most days i don't mind. such are the everyday's of our lives i suppose.

your brother is resting on our bed right now, has been for almost two hours. i made sure to keep the fan blowing and curtains drawn and the door slightly opened so i can hear his snores whilst in the other room. we have plans to go to trader joes and make a healthy, delicious meal together before daddy comes home. we may even make our favorite spinach muffins we haven't made in over a year.

this morning your daddy thought i was asleep and pulled the covers back over my shoulders since they slipped off me hours prior. i let him pretend i was asleep because i love it so. i then turned slowly onto my other side (i move very slowly with you inside me) and looked at him looking straight back at me. i mouthed "do you want to cuddle" and he lifted the covers up so i could scoot near him. moments later, gus woke up and cried out for me. "mama cuddle" he said, so we pulled him in between us and had a quiet wake up together.

i told your father that i had a surge of excitement thinking of your face. i climbed into his ears and asked what if baby looks like gus and then what if baby looks nothing like gus, but a whole new creation. we wondered out loud and i loved that.

time has slowed down expecting your arrival. each day i get a text from your auntie or nana asking if today's the day. daddy does the same. he often tells me he can't wait. nor can i.

we had a blood moon on sunday evening and it was so beautiful. i wish you could have seen it. they say it won't happen for quite some time. they also said they found saltwater on mars.

oh, what a world you are entering.

enter slowly or abruptly. i don't mind.

just come soon. we have much to learn together.

i've been singing this song a lot, thinking of you, but this version of it.

1 comment:

  1. The beginning comes off as a little confusing because there are only pictures and no text but the suspense is adequately put to rest with the endearing description of how a parent wishes to welcome their child.