It's midnight and Hudson and Reagan are awake with me. I'm awake because I wasn't thinking when I drank that Red Bull at 8:00pm. The middle two are awake because I made them take naps earlier today. Both are completely my bad.
But this moment is not shouted the why, but about the joy of watching these two play together. These two, my second and third born, are as opposite as two siblings can get. Hudson sees everything in black and white, right or wrong. For Reagan, everything is gray. She is a free spirit. There will be many, many times when they will not get along, or see eye to eye. But that moment is not now...
Reagan is currently delivering Hudson's wife's babies on our kitchen table. She tells the imaginary woman that she's going to have a baby and that she's doing great. Seconds later, Hudson brings me a baby doll, tenderly places it in my arms, and proudly asks, "Do you like my baby? Isn't she beautiful?"
I listen as one chooses to be the doctor and the other chooses to be a nurturer. I giggle to myself when I hear Hudson insist that Reagan must wash her hands before holding his babies. I wonder how the experience with their preemie cousin has affected them, especially when Hudson carries around a pretend oxygen tank for his smallest baby. I can't help but think I'm catching a small glimpse into our future.
"Do you think I'll be a good daddy?" he asks me. I look at his brown eyes, the smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose, I know the depth of his affection and tenderness, and without hesitating I answer, "Of course, Baby!"
I could obsess over the parenting fails that are happening at the moment, knowing these middle two should have been asleep for hours at this point. Or I could just soak this moment in and store it away for a night of nostalgic memories once they've grown.
I'm choosing the latter.