Some mornings I wake up before my not-so-little baby. I love those mornings. And not just because I get to enjoy a little peace and quiet before another whirlwind day begins. I enjoy it for that, too, but mostly because I actually get a chance to look at my sleeping baby up close, to gaze at him in stillness. Yesterday was one of these perfect mornings. __________________________________________________ I'm not sure what exactly wakes me up early on a Sunday morning. Perhaps it's the moving truck pulling in at the complex across the way. I lay there for a moment letting myself finish waking up. I shift and feel Goen stir next to me, but he stays asleep. I can tell that he will wake up soon. He always turns over a couple times before waking. As I look over at him I notice how soft his skin looks in the soft light filtering through the curtain. How the color reminds me of the inside of a clam shell--a little shimmery, even, in the same way. And then his eyes open. Usually his eyes are very blue, but this morning, in the dull light, they look as gray as a storm cloud. He has a funny habit of saying "hi" sometimes right after waking up. It always makes me smile. Once his eyes focus and he sees me gazing at him, he utters his greeting. I smile and keep looking at him, studying his features. Laying half on his side, he flexes his back and stretches his arms. We both stay there for a few more moments, content to just relax and let the morning begin without taking action. The light from the window reflects off his still-bleary eyes. His face is smooth, carefree. I keep watching him, trying to hold on to this moment. His cheeks remind me of a squirrel with a mouth full of acorns: poofy in a cute sort of way. This is a slower morning than most. His usual mode of waking up is more like bread popping out of a toaster. But I don't rush him; there's no need, no appointments, nowhere to be except right where we are. He stretches again and I know it's over. Rolling onto his front side, he pushes himself up. I follow his cue and we get out of bed. I sigh. The sound is part happiness, part sorrow. Because I know these moments won't last forever. "Let's go get papa," I say, and we walk together out of the room.
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Carley Biblin
Hi. My name is Carley. I love to sew, craft, and create. As a Jane-of all-crafts so to speak, I enjoy sewing, writing, cooking, drawing, photographing. But the constant thread (if you'll excuse the pun) throughout my weeks is needle arts. Archives
January 2017
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