For Them

Each night before bed, and some nights a few times more, I creep into Little Miss' then Fo's rooms to get one last glance before I say goodbye to that day.
I flinch as I turn the knob on their doors as slowly and quietly as I can.
I stand in the dark above their bed and wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness.
Then suddenly I can see their sweet little forms:
Little Miss, hard to find beneath her pile of dolls and stuffed animals (the pile always multiplies between the time I put her to bed and the time I sneak in hours later), is usually curled on her side or on her tummy with her bum in the air. Or with her knees on the floor and her arms and head on the bed. My little restless monkey.
Fo used to be in the exact same position I put her in. Lately I am confused when I peak into her crib because she manages to turn herself completely around so that her head is where her feet were when I left her. She won't do that trick for me in the daylight. She curls up on her side with one arm above her head. So sweet, this little one.
Their faces are similar and so different. They are such individuals and yet such sisters. This heart of mine is full with them. Their smell, their faces, their voices, their presence. I am in love and so thankful for these precious girls.

Little Miss is full of life and passion. My Mother in Law (who's amazing legs are on the left in this picture) describes her as "a party waiting to happen". I love that about her. She is also so loving and sincere. She tells us when she's happy.
"I'm Poppy!" and when she's not; "I cry. I'm sad."
I love her spirit and love to watch her in play, in sleep and every time in between.

There is still so much to be discovered about this little one. Fo is so calm and sweet and laid back. I think she will follow along with everything LM demands of her, gladly, just because she is content all the time.
She does have her moments of distress. She can scream like a banshee when she wants to. I have to admit, sometimes, I wait a bit longer then necessary to get her because her hugs are tighter the more upset she us. Evil of me, I know. But seriously, this girl hugs. She grabs on tight and kicks her legs and snuggles into your neck like there's no tomorrow.

I love these girls of mine. I love that I get to be their mother.
And while I don't love laundry or diapers or (shudder) potty training, I do love that I get to do it all.
For them.