When it’s time to go to bed, I can’t walk past my children’s bedrooms without stopping in to check on them while they sleep. Tonight, I took an extra moment to sit still beside them. I rested my hand on Vivi’s chest and felt her heart tapping along beneath my palm. Peace. In Carlos’ room, I pushed the sweaty curls off his brow. He stirred then sighed. I put my hand over his heart and breathed in the quiet in his dark little haven.
There is no faster path to the present moment than feeling my child’s heart beating.
![Léon Bazille Perrault [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons](http://i1.wp.com/baddestmotherever.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/09/perrault_leon_jean_basile_a_mother_with_her_sleeping_child.jpg?resize=490%2C416)
Léon Bazille Perrault “A Mother With Her Sleeping Child,” via Wikimedia Commons
When we were foster parents, one of my sweetest memories was standing outside the boys room and just watching them sleep, with this peacefulness, entirely at rest without a care in the world. Ahhhhh.
Yes! Children are naturally “present.”
What a lovely way to start the morning, reading about the thing we all have in common, the sigh that means all is well.
It’s my favorite time of day: when the day is done and my son is sleeping. He seems so angelic then, no matter how the day went.
Yep. It’s a tonic that wipes our memories clean!
Stop being so sweet. You’re making the rest of us look like assholes ; )
Bleached assholes.
Hahahaha