18 Months

We have been home, as a family or four, for eighteen months. I have a big post in my head, but don't have the time, or energy to spit it out tonight. I started getting up really early, 4 am early, in an effort to write a bit before the kiddos get up. Inevitably, Meazi somehow senses that I am awake. I hear the slap, slap, slap, of her bare feet in the hallway, and then I see her groggy, naked, self (except for her silky pink sleep cap), round the corner to join me on the couch. She then says the same thing she says to me every time she finds me attempting to write something, "Mommy, since I haven't really been getting a chance to do Starfall at school as much as I used to may I do some now on your computer?" Starfall is this, and she digs it. I usually say no at first, and then cave from the relentless asking.

Then I just kind of watch over her shoulder as she plays- too late to go back to bed, too early to do anything other than sit there. I start the coffee and think about what kind of yummy processed foodstuffs I can cram into her eco-friendly lunch box for school.

Melese rounds that hallway corner shortly after, clad in his hand-me-down H.A jammies that he now calls his "sun volt" because Steven started calling him that the first time he wore it. The orange and yellow stripes indeed make him look like walking sunlight.  He tears his black silky sleep cap off his head and tosses it on the ground just like that peddler in Caps For Sale. He joins me on the couch, wraps his arms around my neck and says his first word of the day, "Mommy."

They really are something, these two. I know that most parents feel like their children hung the moon, but I think there may be actual scientific evidence indicating that these two, were indeed responsible.

What would I have liked to say if it weren't 11:19 pm, and I weren't about four minutes away from completely dozing off?

 That 18 months feels a lot different than six months. That I am a lucky person. That I would have waited another ten years to have the gift of these children in my life. That I don't deserve them. That I fail them. That I'll keep on trying. That I love them so, so much.

I have to go to bed now. Goodnight, and Keep on Truckin'.