I quickly shovel the last bite of dinner into her tired little mouth,
as she rubs her eyes and spreads the pea chunks onto her eyelashes.
She’s ready to start dreaming her baby dreams,
but not before a bath to clean her fuzzy head.
She gifts the biggest smile when I pour warm bath water on her tummy from high above; she touches the stream of water with her hands and kicks her feet wildly with delight.
Time for pajamas and warm mama cuddles,
as I attempt to hold her while making her bottle.
Putting her down at this moment would mean wailing cries of betrayal,
so we avoid the drama and struggle through one-handed operations.
Back in her room next to the crib, she drinks the bottle as I slowly sway.
Both of our minds are calmed by the darkness.
When she decides she is too tired to continue,
she turns her head swiftly and shuts her eyes tight.
She would sleep in this position for the rest of the night if I let her.
I turn her around to savor one last, long hug.
She tucks her head in under my chin,
and I feel her warm, soft forehead against my neck.
As I close my eyes and thank God for this beautiful child,
this beautiful moment,
a glimpse of fear sneaks into my thoughts as I think about the fragility of life.
She takes a deep, pure breath as if to release the day and I come into my reality
of holding an angel in my arms.
These moments pass so quickly.
I pray to Jesus that he and His angels protect my baby girl while she sleeps.
As I stand up to lay her in her crib, she awakens.
She quickly spins to her stomach to look at me walking away.
She begins to whine cries of disapproval.
The cries last as quickly as I can sneak out of the room,
and as I softly shut her bedroom door, she becomes quiet.