I took a day off on Friday.
An actual day off.
No blogging, no photo tagging, no memory keeping, no admin, no emails.
I’d worked hard on Thursday night to make it happen, and it was totally worth it.
An entire day to eat, play, rest, nap, play and eat some more.
Gosh, it was good.
* * *
Saturday morning. Jamie wakes up with a high temperature.
He refuses medicine all day.
As he goes to bed in the evening with a burning forehead, he tucks his arms under his sheets, turns his head towards me, and whispers, “I love you, mummy,” before turning his head back to face the wall.
I want to smother him with kisses right there and then, but instead, I brush his fringe away from his eyes and plant a gentle peck on his soft cheek.
“I love you too, my little Jamie.”
* * *
I spend the rest of Saturday evening settling and re-settling Jamie and Edward, who has also caught the cold.
Despite my growing exhaustion (and frustration), every time I hold them close, touch their hands, kiss their faces and breathe in their smell, I am reminded of how blessed I am.
They are mine.
And I am theirs.
And being their mother is the one thing that no one else can do…
* * *
The boys and I stay home from church as Jamie and Edward are still unwell.
When I bring Edward downstairs, the other boys are all watching television in the family room.
“Gus, could you help me with Bear’s rocker?”
Immediately, he is on his feet, and he carries the rocker into the room for me.
As I follow him into the room with Edward in my arms, Pete jumps up too.
“I’ll get him a toy!” he says, as he goes to open the soft toys drawer.
By the time I am strapping Edward into his rocker, it is Jamie’s turn to come over.
“I want to sit next to baby Edward!”
I step back and watch the four of them watching television.
They are definitely brothers, those four.
I can’t help but marvel at the fact that I was part of the magic that brought them together.
* * *
Rick and I take turns going into Edward, who is struggling to sleep with his blocked nose.
Eventually, around 4am, he settles, and there is quiet.
I am so tired, I have no idea whether I am awake or asleep. Instead, I feel suspended in some hazy state of exhaustion.
In the morning, Rick lets me sleep in till almost nine while he gets the boys out of bed all by himself.
By the time I stumble downstairs, the boys have all eaten their breakfast.
Rick is feeding Edward in his rocker. His little face lights up as I walk over, and he gifts me with the most beautiful smile.
Baby smiles. The perfect antidote to exhaustion. (And perhaps the only reason why parents survive sleep deprivation.)
Yes, we are his.
And he is ours.
And we are so very blessed to have him.
Here are all the excerpts from my journal.