Apparently a picture speaks a thousand words.
I’ve never really put it to the test, but I often stare at a picture and have what seems like a hundred different words and emotions run wild through my head. The picture itself says so much and in a few years you will be able to look at the picture and not only be able to bring back that moment, but you will be able to bring back that time of your life, the little bits leading up to that moment. The real feely emotional stuff that memories are entwined with.
My memory is debatable at best. I seem to really struggle to remember conversations or exact words that people have used. It’s so bad that I’ve realised that I have become that annoying person that tells you the same thing twice on two different days because I totally forgot that I’d spoken to you about it before – until the words are out of my mouth that is. I annoy myself.
I want to remember these mornings, because, while they may be filled with the usual parenting dilemmas, I am so privileged to call these little people mine. Here’s my attempt to not only capture this moment with a picture, but with a 1000 words too.
(Although the picture is Riya – I tried to write it in a way that this could really be to either Riya or Kyla – I love you girls).
It’s still fairly dark in our room, but the light is desperately fighting it’s way through the curtains. I hate it when this happens. I was so sure that I shut them tight before I went to sleep. Then I hear the tails wagging – I’m still not sure how, but they know that I’ve woken up. Of course they are the culprits behind the beams of infiltrating light, it’s not only our children that like to limit our sleep.
Rolling over to try and block it out for a few more minutes, my eye catches your perfect little face in the beam of sunlight. . Somehow it just highlights all of your unique features and that even though your face is expressionless, it is so perfect that my heart just does a little jump of happiness – the special kind only reserved for you. And somehow, I am slightly less mad about the open curtain.
But I’m still not ready to get up, so I close my eyes and reach a hand out gently to find yours. You don’t notice, but it makes all the difference to me as I try and will myself back into sleep.
It’s futile though. I know it is. Not even seconds later I hear little footsteps pattering across the passage. I pretend to still be asleep, but either you know I’m faking, or you don’t care. Either way, you are at the side of my bead staring into my face – willing my eyes to open. You’ve spotted your sibling that managed to sneak in here during the night and are instantly jealous of their sweet spot in the middle. You’ve learnt not to throw a scene, so instead, you curl up right next to me and we cuddle. Sometimes the moment is lost on me because I am tired or because I’m just not ready to wake up yet, but thankfully today is not one of those mornings. This morning, these cuddles are so needed.
Daddy’s alarm goes off – I’m sure it’s too early. I kick his leg. I can’t help myself, I just know that if he doesn’t stir the moment it goes off, he is in one of those intense sleep modes and before you know it the whole house will be awake. I’m not quite ready for that. So I nudge his leg again. He moans, grunts a bit and fumbles with his phone to switch it off. When he decides to get up, we all make ourselves comfortable in the new glorious Daddy space that he’s left behind.
Despite our efforts to be quiet, there is a noise on the monitor. Knox has woken up. He’s fetched and we all curl back into the warmth and comfort of the covers. He insists on cuddling right up close, tickling and then cuddling some more. You are jealous that he wants to give me so much attention and you just can’t wait for him to acknowledge you. Once he does it’s like I don’t exist. You cuddle each other and make each other laugh. You don’t even notice me watching you. I’m often floored at the genuine sensitivity and care that you show him, even though it may be followed right up with something silly. You love him and he loves you. So very, very much.
We have to leave the warmth, comfort and cuddles soon, but I try and get one more kiss, one more hug, one more cuddle, one more tickle – it’s not going to be long before I’ll really have to beg for them and you’d prefer not to give them. But that’s another thought for another day.
I want to cherish these moments. I want to cherish you. Because I love you, forever and for always.
Not quite 1000 words, but there you go. Have a great Tuesday!
(If you happen to do something similar, leave your link in the comments – I’d love to read it.)