Waking up to a house full of happy children is the BEST feeling.
Boaz was standing in his crib chattering his familiar baby talk. I can see him from my bed, but I am careful to keep the blankets pulled up tight around me so as to keep myself hidden from him. I can see him looking over at my bed to see if he can spot me amongst the mess of blankets and pillows in the dark room. I purposefully stay still so that I can continue to be lazy as I admire him. As he grasps the rail with one hand he squats and turns behind him to grab his comforting bottle that Daddy laid there for him before he left for work. His bottle sucking is noisy, but he is content, which is contagious. He throws his bottle back into his crib, picks it up and throws it again, practicing his technique over and over; pleased as punch with himself. I, eventually, decide that I can't lie in bed forever and hop up, much to Bo's joy. He seems a little startled to see his mama arise from the rubble of a bed that he has been spying on all morning. His arms immediately pop up, like instinct, for me to come hold him. I love his soft pudgy body. He is getting older now and toddlers are my favorite age. He holds me just as tightly as I hold him as I open my door and let the light of all the windows encompass us. I look down at Boaz to see that his expression is squinty and his baby hair is sticking up; deliciously babyFIED! (I don't care if the spell check complains about that word...it's real in my mind).
As he and I pounce down the stairs the joy factor in the house is high. I can smell french toast cooking on the stove by Isaiah, and Roman is sitting on the barstool in front of him and declares to me that "EEAH (that is what we all call Isaiah from the time that Levi couldn't pronounce his name correctly) is his BEST friend." Isaiah smiles, and in pops Abram who is always good to give me a hug and to speak of his love for his mother. Eight is such a sweet age for boys. They don't have the pride that comes with teens, and so they are a wide open book of love; to which I tear a page from daily. Levi is quick to wish me a good morning and I sit down with Boaz, a jar of baby food, and we are off and running on another good day. Thank you Lord!