Bless these sweet little feet.
The feet that spilled the bottle of black ink.
The feet that smeared it all over the floor,
That made sure no item in sight was ignored.
What was going through his head? No one knows.
Puddle jumping and merry making I suppose?
Bless these moments that demand more.
That push your patience to the limit, and squeeze you to the core.
The moments you wonder how on earth can you survive?
Is the world out to get you? Should I surrender and hide?
Bless these questions that bring you around back to the start.
Your life’s greatest work. Your treasure, your heart.
He stands before you, so innocently waiting,
Inquisitively wondering what mama’s face is conveying.
Yes bless these little humans from their head to their toes.
Who teach us love reaches beyond the end of our nose.
Who gave us the gift of a love deep and wild.
A love beyond measure, and this moment is reconciled.
Bless these babes who call me mother,
A word of more value to me than any other.
Bless the ink stain on my shirt that asks I remember,
These little feet are not little forever.
Written late last night after bathtub scrubbing, floor scrubbing, and a few tears:) Maximilian Francis I love you wildly.