On Morning

This morning was so beautiful.

I slept past sunrise, which is a beautiful thing in and of itself. Fiona has started to sleep a little bit more, with the love and helpful guidance of her sweet father. Somehow the presence of a person without a milk supply has chilled her out and helped her to put in some longer stretches, for which my ever-growing pregnant body is incredibly grateful.

So she was sleeping, and I was sleeping, and Aoife was sleeping when my little Liam crawled into my bed at the very late hour of half past six. He curled into me, and went back to sleep for a little while, and I was in heaven. We woke together to the sound of Aoife getting up and I, wanting to wow and amaze them as well as log a few extra moments of sleep while Fiona was miraculously still conked out, offered the sweet candy of an early morning PBS show. Liam scampered down, after having told Aoife the wonderful news, and I began to drift off again.

Then Aoife climbed into my bed, took me by the hand, and stared at me earnestly in the eye.

Mimi, I love you so much, my love for you goes from here, out to space, and back again to here. And she planted a huge, insanely juicy kiss on my lips. I knew it was all about the show, but it was still the absolutely most wonderful way to begin my day.

I slept for half an hour more, then. I woke up to the sweet chatter of little Fiona down the hall, the 13 portraits of our holy trinity hanging over my head, and the sunshine streaming in.

Somehow it lifted the heaviness of winter.

And all this, on the day that is the birthday of a sweet girl who should be four years old, my dear friend Erin's Birdie. Perhaps she sent the love down, it was rippling in waves from her mama's house five miles away. But I was grateful for the beauty of the morning.