Yesterday I was laying with Oaks as he fell asleep for his nap. I kissed his fat little neck/cheek/chin as Lauren Daigle played on my phone, and his eyes grew heavier and heavier. I snapped a picture when he fell asleep (before I snuck out, ninja style) and I posted it to my stories with some text on top:
“Lay with them, mamas.
For as long as they need.
Because it’s not long.
It’s so short.
So, so short.
These are the best years of your whole life.”
A little later a mama tagged me in a picture of her snuggling her sleepy baby, and then another and then another. And then I cried in the Chick Fil A parking lot.
I hope you know how beautiful you are. I see you in your messy buns and no bras, and I see you with your hot mess houses because you chose your baby instead. And I see you when you feel like you’re the only one who doesn’t have your crap together — who can’t figure out how to have the clean house, the thriving business, the bangin’ bod, the weekly date nights, and the baby who sleeps on his own.
Look at all of us. We are not alone. And look at how these babies look at us. How their chubby little hands rest on us so securely. How peacefully they sleep knowing mama’s right there. How “mama” is the safest most beautiful place in the world to them. When again in our lives will we be this adored, this needed, this wanted? We are the luckiest people on the planet.
When I look at these photos I can’t help but just cry and be proud of us.
I see you, sweet mamas.
You are doing such a phenomenal job.