Smooth eyelids over inquisitive eyes...

Oh how I love the feel and smell of his soft, clean skin. The roundness of his cheeks, the warmth under the back of my finger as I trace it downwards to his chin. The little dimple which appears and disappears as his pouty red lips stretch and contort their way around his mispronounced words. The frustration of moments before when taking him back to bed for the fifth time melts away while looking into his sea blue eyes. "Tan you weed me da bear b-oot pwease?", he asks despite knowing he is supposed to be sleeping after already having his two books of the night read to him. I know I should say no, stay strong, stand my ground but his eyes beg as much as his words and I find myself lying down on his sleep spray covered pillow and getting into the rhythm that accompanies chasing bears and being brave. As the book progresses my voice rises and diminishes as he steps in and replaces the words I purposefully omit. He laughs at my mistakes and corrects them with cheek and all too soon the family are safe under the covers and he looks at me, begging for more. But the sun has gone down and the clock has kept on ticking, it's time for sleep I tell him and he lies still beside me, his gaze locked on mine. "Lay with me?", he asks and I cannot say no as he snuggles under the covers and his breathing begins to slow.



The ritual then starts, that of which I try each night but never depend on, always waiting and hoping it will work, never wanting to believe it just will for fear the disapointment of it failing be the undoing of the lovely reality of it happening. My breathing is slowed to a deep, restful sleep sound beside him and he surcumbs to sleep as his breathing matches mine. His milky white arm slips out from beneath the covers and falls down beside the bed as his head falls to the soft mattress below. I gently move from beside him, quietly, carefully leaving his side until I stand on the carpet looking down on his sleeping form. Soft, smooth eyelids closed over inquisitive eyes, limbs that barely stop when awake are stock still in slumber, below the warming quilt covered in his hero of the moment "Bob Builder".



I stand just a little longer than needed watching as he sleeps and soaking in the beauty and innocence of him. Watching him, them, as they sleep takes every problem and sadness in my life and extinguishes them. Looking upon their beautiful features, sharing their hugs, soothing their sorrows and laughing at their jokes make the meaning of life so very very clear. The meaning of life is them, it is the love they radiate, the warmth and purpose they bring to my life, the care that they give, the insight they see...the meaning of life...my life....is them. Everything else pales in comparison.