A mama poem at midnight


They burst forth with the sun,
rarely pausing,
save to savour a snack or gulp breaths after racing ’round corners and up stairs,
and I can’t keep up,
can’t stay on top
of laundry mountains,
can’t slow down these moments.
These nose touch, sword fighting, sticky hand holding, pitch black snuggle, full-face giggle, silly dancing, warm, nestled nursing moments.
But I’m going to try tonight.

Christie xox

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