I listen…

I listen. I am calmed. There is a tightly curled brown dog sleeping deep sighs beside me while little bird songs float down the hallway from my daughter’s room. My daughter. I have a tall, beautiful daughter who emanates joy and enthusiasm for life. I listen. I am calmed. The songs continue.

I can only guess she is singing to pillowy creatures who reside in her crib with her. Fluffy faces of pig, dog, and frog. But then I feel a deeper sense of knowing, no, its not that simple. She is singing with creatures I often forget are present among us; angels and other Heavenly things. Because little people, such as my Aurora, are more aware of where they have come from and are slowly learning where they now reside. I listen…I am calmed.

There is an amazing resiliency with children that I have always greatly admired. They can lick shoes, eat food off the floor, wash their hands once a week (usually during their bath), avoid vegetables like the plague, and yet when a fall cold hits their little bodies it is miserable, but only for a short time. Before I had a moment to really be concerned, she was better. Hugs, vitamin C, and good old fashioned, so-not-popular in today’s culture, REST, made her cold seem something as swift as the wind.

I am grateful and completely in awe of their resiliency. I believe kids have some natural wisdom about them as well. They know to just stay in pajamas and take it easy until they feel better. They do whine and fuss, but for good reason – it doesn’t feel good. And before we all know it, its back to singing and playing and finding joy in life again.

Joy in new desks. You would have thought I had given him the moon! He has asked me to move it all around the house, wherever we are camped for the hour. I comply within a ten-foot radius, but with this eight-month belly I travel no further with said magical desk.

My ribs are sore. A pair of feet have found respite in my rib cage while a baby’s head taunts my bladder. Strong rolls and elbowed pokes are ever present throughout my day and nights. I groan with great effort to just turn from one hip to the other while “resting” on the couch in the evenings.

Rory cuddles close only to find something thumping her from my insides and she pokes back with perplexed looks. Cody is making himself known and I am fully aware…and completely excited to meet him soon. Eight weeks or less!

The singing has stopped after an hour. It seems someone else was curious and has gone to tell her stories through her crib slats. I listen. I am calmed.