Each night after everyone has gone to bed I sigh a huge sigh of relief. I pick up loose ends around the house, tripping on a million toys in process, and somehow the quietness seems odd to me. After all, the days are filled with anything BUT silence!
When I finish tidying up, I go upstairs and tiptoe into my daughters' rooms, so as to not wake them. Brooke is sprawled out on her bed to the point that her tiny 32 pound self seems to completely fill it. Adrienne is lying on her belly with her butt way up into the air... One finger in her "booper" (or belly button) and her thumb on the other hand is in her mouth. As for Bailey, she is on her belly resting soundly and peacefully. She is so at rest that I have to feel her chest to make sure she is still breathing. They all look so angelic and I just stare at them because I'm taken back by their incredible beauty. In that moment, I can't believe that these children are actually mine.
Then, something happens in the silence... I begin to wish for that day back, regardless of how rough it may have been. If only I could have loved them more. If only I could have not lost my temper while playing referee during their hundredth fight. If only I could have put the broom down and read them another book. If only I could have acted more excited over their accomplishments. If only I could have hugged them longer or soaked up their slobbery kisses more.
There is just something about my babies when they're sleeping. They inspire me to make tomorrow better and to fill it with as much love as I possibly can.