Fits Like Love

I just put Katie to bed and when I kissed her goodnight I had a flashback of when she was a baby. She was always pretty tiny but she still had these typical chubby baby cheeks that were so utterly kissable. Her cheeks, taut from the effect of wintery weather against unsullied infant skin, felt perfect under my lips. I'd press my kisses into her making that "mmmmm" sound and then, unable to pull away completely, I'd dip my face down and press my forehead and nose into her temple, smooth her hair away from her face with my lips and whisper, "I love you, Katie" softly in her ear.

I did that again tonight and she wrapped her arms around my neck and held on for dear life. I'd let her squeeze my life right into her own if I could, and she knows it. I hope.

I walked over to Freddy's room and as usual, I climbed into bed with him and cupped my body around his, my right arm above his head and I smoothed his hair with my hand while he talked to me about his day, how a girl in his class (who he does NOT like at all) gives him a cream puff every day. And how his dad is getting them a snake. And how he plays kick ball and zombie tag at recess. I held him, and I told him too that I love him, and my love for him is so big, so huge, that I can hardly carry it all. Then Steps jumped up on his bed and stuck his furry bum in our faces and that was the end of that.

But my baby Jake? He's the one who first taught me how to love, as he's my oldest. He walked up to his room and mumbled "goodnight" to me on his way up. I told him I love him, as usual, and I know that if I were to reach out and give him a squeeze or ruffle his hair that I'd get swatted at and he'd give me the stinkeye. I still snuggle him, but I let him go tonight. I have to space out the snuggles with him a bit or I really freak him out.

I'm not exactly sure where all this love fits inside of my cold little heart, but God seems to find a way to make room.