This Moment

If I could wrap Abbey up right now and keep her at this age forever, at just-turned-two, I would.

It's somewhat of a surprise to hear myself say that, because in so many ways the toddler years are hard work. But for this moment, right here...

I'm lying in bed, eyes shut, dreams just beginning to turn to thoughts, my body teetering towards the edge of the mattress. Next to me, having snuck in during the night, is Abbey, arms and legs sprawled out messily. She is still asleep and I lie for a moment, watching as her little hands twitch every so often and she rolls to her side as she sleeps.

I remember her as a baby in the hospital, as I tried to sleep on that first day. Right from that moment, I found it impossible to sleep with Abbey in the room. My eyes are glued to her little chest rising up and down, her toes twitching and the little sighs and facial expressions she makes in her sleep.

Then she makes a move. Still with her eyes shut, she reaches out her hands, searching blindly. When she finds her beloved teddy bear, she strokes the tassels on his soft hat and gently falls back to sleep.

I could get up, I could do some work while she sleeps. There are a million things to be done. But I don't do any of them. I lie there and watch her sleep, see her smile as she wakes to see me there. Even then, I don't rush to get up. We stay there for a while longer, chatting, giggling and laughing.

I begin my day with a heart full of love and happiness.


Megan