Quiet Moments

In these rare, quiet moments, when Miles is sleeping, I sit, alone in my chair, and I think.

I think of a time when toys did not decorate my living room.  A time when there was no jelly to clean off the couch.  A time when I could come and go when I pleased, without worrying about a nap schedule.  A time when sleeping in on the weekends meant not getting up until noon.  I think of a time before Miles.

And it hurts.

Because I didn't know how much I was missing.

I turn my thoughts to the present.  And I wait for him to wake up.

I wait for that angelic smile that will melt my heart.  I wait for the tousled hair, that will never stay brushed.  I wait for the hugs, and the kisses, and the mess.  I wait for the thundering of tiny footsteps running through the living room.  I wait for the tickles, and the giggles.  I wait for the soft hugs, and the piercing squeals of happiness that cannot be contained.

And my heart sings for the joy of it.