The Weight of Love

They say love has no bounds. I can believe that, as I put my kids to sleep, and sit there for a moment, looking at their precious, peaceful faces. Which actually, to be honest,  are not very peaceful at all as I sit there, as both of them are making ridiculous last minute bedtime stalling requests. These faces may be precious, but peaceful won’t come for probably another hour.

But back to the point: when I look at my kids, I take deep breaths as I grapple with the huge emotions I have; love so strong it just about renders me useless if I think about the possibility of any harm coming to them.

The pride I feel that brings tears to my eyes when they reach a new milestone, show kindness, or help each other out.

The feel of their small bodies as I hug them to me at night, singing them their own homemade lullabies I’ve been singing to them since they were born.

I lift SJ up, feel the warmth as I hold her close. And then….

Geez, she’s getting pretty heavy. Her feet are already dangling down close to my thighs. When did she get so big?

The weight of love in my household is getting heavier.

Which means the nighttime ritual of rocking my youngest into sleepy time- while standing up, with her in my arms, is coming to an end.

The weight of love is almost unbearable. My arm is tingling and I am shortening the length of her lullaby so I can put her down.

I am not ready to let this ritual go. Because this is the last ritual of this kind I will have with my own children. It will change into a new ritual that will be just as wonderful, but it will change.

The weight of love will never be too much for me to bear, but it is certainly becoming to heavy for me to hold in my arms for extended periods of time without becoming numb and lightheaded.





Have a great crazy day!


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