The receiving blankets and spit-up cloths are scattered throughout the house - along with a breast pad I must have taken out during one of the night feedings. My pillow isn't on our bed - it's in the living room with a heap of blankets - an attempt to give Keith a good night of sleep. The washing machine just chimed to tell me the load of cloth diapers is clean. The tiniest of our babies is grunting at me from her bouncy chair - her bed of choice when she has a tummy ache.
I look in the mirror. My hair is a bit disheveled since I shower before bed now instead of in the morning. Sometimes it isn't quite dry when I lie on the pillow and looks wonky when I wake up. I'm wearing my glasses, which I do a lot more these days because pregnancy seems to change my vision somewhat permanently. I'm thinking of that picture I saw of myself from nearly 6 years ago. And sometimes I long to be that girl again - the young bride Keith married and took honeymooning in Cuba. Tight body, tanned skin and all his. It was as if every nerve I had was naturally tuned in to him.
Fast-forward 5.5 years and three kids and this connectedness takes a lot more purposeful effort. We can't possibly be as focused on each other as we were before we had kids. The joy is that the desire to be has never faded - the joy of simply being beside him. We are best friends and lovers and part of the dance is trying to hold the two in tension. Life's demands have taught us to laugh with (and sometimes at) each other, to make ourselves available to one another and to cherish those times when we can focus solely on the other. I hope, after our kids are grown and on their own and we find ourselves once again alone with each other - he'll still see me the way I looked on our honeymoon.
No comments:
Post a Comment