Pitter Patter

Sometimes I hear it.
Sometimes I don't.
Whether I do or don't, just thinking about it still makes me wake up with a smile on my face.

This morning it was about 1:56 AM. I heard the pitter patter of little feet coming down the hallway and into our bedroom. Then the rustling near the foot of our bed as Maiya climbed up, the swishing of the sheets as she made her way up to the pillows, and finally the calmness as she laid her head down and burrowed under the covers curling up nice and tight. It's her thing. It happens nearly every night - if she didn't previously fall asleep in our bed. I know, some people aren't fans (Stuart's not), but I figure they are only little once...for such a short time. Then they do that 'growing up' thing and decide they are too big for climbing into bed for snuggles. Boo.

Unless you're Ethan.

When he turned 10, Stuart nailed the 'No More' hammer on midnight sleepwalking. There are - on OCCASION - mornings when I have woken up and he's cuddled up right there on my side of the bed! One morning I woke up to hearing him walk in, I looked at him in the darkness,"What are you doin' dude?" All I get is a confused mumble. If there's 6 inches of free real estate in the king-sized bed he'll take it. I chuckle when I wake up and he looks like he's going to fall off the edge because he was so content getting on the bed...then look to the other side of me and Maiya is either glued to Stuart's back or flayed out...and since I can't go back to bed once I wake up, I tug them around, tuck them in and climb out to start my day. But before I do, there's a few thoughts that go through my ever-thinking head:

- I'm grateful to be a mother. Not everyone can say that; whether they have children or don't.

- I'm grateful to have healthy children who can sleep through the night in their own beds. Some wake up in hospitals. Some in dirt huts. Others wake up in a new foster home. Some don't wake up at all. Some heartbroken parents no longer have children to say 'Good morning' to. I think of that each time I see a child tragedy on the news.

- I'm grateful to wake up in a warm home, knowing the day will be surrounded with laughter (and a few tears), teasing, eye-rolling, maybe yelling, play-hitting and all the fun things childhood is made of. Life with kids, yet without all that, would be like cake without frosting and sprinkles.'Tis why I make my kids PLAY! (aka NOT on the computer!)

- I'm grateful Stuart works and wants me home. That we decide to live on one income and forego the extras. And should I return to work we're not stretching it. I know not everyone can do that. I know my kids want more 'stuff', but who remembers the 'stuff' in a 10-20 year-old landfill? I want my kids to remember the 'time' and let memories be the 'stuff' collecting dust. I think it's a better investment.

- I'm grateful the kids WANT to be near us. And come down in the middle of the night to curl up and catch some more zzzz's. They make me want to be a better person. Every day. I don't want them to find comfort anywhere else but with family, faith and home.

Life is good. My brother Teage always says that. He's one smart guy!


I have much to be grateful for. Every time I hear the pitter patter of little feet in the middle of the night...it's one of the best sounds ever.
 
p.s. Kiana...yeah. Never been a snuggler and she values her precious sleep. Alone.