There was a minute this week where Lincoln was playing in a little fort I built between his changing table and glider. He’d asked me to come bring Adelaide into the fort and as I knelt down beneath the blanket ceiling with her on my knees, she looked at Lincoln and burst into a fit of giggles. The giggling continued on and off for a minute or two and my sappy mother’s heart melted on the spot.
And then there was the evening that I stayed up catching up on work until almost midnight. And then one of my children woke up every two hours. And Ben was working nights.
I also crawled into Lincoln’s crib for the first time this week. And now it’s his favorite. We’ll snuggle and stare up at the moon and stars projected on his ceiling by the nightlight. He tells me about his day (in one word exclamations: “snacks! sis! cars! stars!”) and reminds me so often that “mama, bed!”
Adelaide did soak my pants with spit up this afternoon. And her own pajamas. That I had just changed her into. Because she had pooped through her other ones.
But my little baby also found her voice this week and today we spent a solid hour babbling together while both boys slept. She just talked away, taking breaks only to smile and look at me. I can’t wait for our chats three years from now, nine years from now, and twenty years from now.
Of all the things this week though, my favorite has to be Christmas Tree Snacks. It’s a family tradition my mom started decades ago and this is the first year Lincoln is old enough to participate. It involves a nightly treat, our new nativity, and a little talk about baby Jesus. In those quiet moments after Adelaide has gone to bed, when I have Lincoln all to myself, I soak up his squinty smiley eyes in the light of the Christmas tree, placing the sheep carefully around the manger. Motherhood in December is officially my favorite.