Scattered, doesn't even come close to describe the rush of incoherent streaming in my present consciousness. So in my attempt to focus on slowing the late night's racing thoughts, bare with me, if you will.
Each day, I'm becoming more and more aware of the run, little Miss Josephine, is going to be giving her father and I. I know people laugh when I tell them she's trouble, because she's little, and charming, sweet and quick to flirt… but.she.is. Trouble, with a capital T. She's just bursting with the irresistible combination of mischief and innocent. A dangerous mixture I'm learning can easily be downgraded with sleep snuggles, deep belly giggles, or the sweetest of baby pure love kisses. The kind of kisses that just beg you to burry your nose deep in the secret creek of her neck, that makes her wiggle and giggle, in an instant turning all that is mischievous, Precious… with a capital P.
(The photos are all blurry, because when I was trying to capture 'that look' in her eyes, I had to keep diving to catch her before she feel on her face.. of course, only encouraging her to do it more)
Wesley spent the night at a friend's house on Saturday night, giving the other two and I, a taste of what it will be like as soon as school starts… it was a little rocky…
The focus of playing with Wesley, shifted to focusing on playing with Mumma, and Mumma shifted that focus to playing in the hurricane ran…
Today, we had him to ourselves, and I wish I could report that the rockiness steadied, but it didn't. A sure sign, that everyone's ready, it's time for the shift back. We're hurrying up and waiting, for the summer shift to shift again.
And as heavy as my eyes are becoming and as slow as the thoughts are being processed, I know it will be far from effortless, but as equally amazing.
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