A Parent’s Coffee Saga

A murmur from behind the closed door

Sigh and gulp, my fresh coffee pour.

And into the bedroom upstairs I go, all smiles for you

Down for tummy time,

Coffee joins us too.

Sips between the almost crawls and wobbly stands

Time for a diaper change

Wait here, I command.

Into the kitchen, learning letters, making magnetic words

Where’s that coffee again?

Spit-up on my t-shirt

Pacifier on the floor

In between swigs of coffee,

Reheat number 4.

Baby walker, baby explorer, baby feeding time

This is the never ending saga

of my coffee rhyme.

Drifting

I sit with the WordPress app open on my phone.

Shuffling through my mind.

Sifting through the moments.

Scanning the day for a Slice of Life.

As I sit and think, my eyes slowly begin to sink down and before I can realize it, my phone begins to topple forward, waking me from my drift into sleep.

This will have to do.

The Smile

Squirms in the middle of night, thrashing against the bed.

I can tell she’s waking up again, tossing and turning.

Gently, I scoop her into my arms.

A hushhh, hushhh softly escapes my lips and we dance into the nursery.

Quickly, quietly we swap the dirty out for the new and we meander back to the big bed again.

But someone has big blinking eyes and a mischievous smirk.

I catch a glimpse and whisper, “No, no. It’s time for sleepies, silly girl,”

To which her jaw pops open into the biggest toothless grin.

I just melt, completely. I can’t help but giggle and my own grin spreads to match hers.

She has my heart.

Loving Changes

I looked down.
“I just didn’t expect this change,” I admit to my husband as he lies on the multicolored rug next to me.
I give a forced side-smile and try to shrug it off, blinking back the surge of emotions.
Laying on his back now he looks up at me, sitting cross-legged next to him. He tries to make words appear, but his lips get tight and his eyes red and full.
He starts again, hands near, ready to catch any water that might escape his eyes.
“I just don’t want you to feel badly,” he manages to whisper, fighting against his tightening throat. “You’re having a baby and you’re my wife and thats beautiful. And all these changes are beautiful too.”
And yet the little droplets come. They streak downward and splash onto his hands
— But they are not his, they are mine.
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June 2019
For my loving husband, Zack Anderson

SOL #31 Crystal Clear

When you dream of the future, you always picture it differently than it turns out.

All sparkly and shiny. But mostly a blur.

But here we are -right now- the real. Maybe not sparkly and shiny, but it’s not a blur – it’s crystal clear and in some funny way, it’s more perfect than ever could have imagined.