Baby Beth's breathing steadies, finally, at 6:30 p.m.
My sweet Mary, filled with The Three Little Pigs, Goldilocks And The Three Bears, and prayer with snuggles, sees Momma blow her last kiss goodnight, around eight.
Two down, two to go.
Though tired, I gladly pull Dr. Dolittle: A Treasury off our library shelf and take it to the playroom.
Paul, his face lit up, stops his Lego project and jumps to the couch. "Time for Dr. Dolittle!" he quips.
Peter takes his place on my other side.
Thank goodness for nursings and storytimes, giving mommas everywhere proper times for pause.
Dr. Dolittle and his extraordinary animal family quickly hook us.
"Dr. Dolittle is very kind", offers my Paul, three chapters into tonight's adventures. "He puts everyone above himself."
"Yes, I agree. I suspect that the author, Hugh Lofting, might be a Christian."
"Can you believe the kinds of stories people think up? These are amazing!", Paul adds.
Yes, indeed. I come to the same conclusion nightly. Just wow.
The magic of the moment captures me tonight. Powerfully.
My two boys, shoulder to shoulder with me. Night after night. Our bonds strengthening through stories shared.
I stop the flow of words to kiss each cheek.
"I love you, boys. Besides my nursing times, I find reading to you the most wonderful part of my days.
"You do?", wonders Peter.
"Yes. Momma feels so close to you. So in love with her boys."
"Thank you", Peter says, feeling the moment.
"Let's get back to the story now", Paul suggests.
"Okay, Paul. We'll do that", I say, amused at the differences in my boys' personalities.
One, so sentimental and careful. The other, so enthusiastic and expressive.
How I love them, Lord!