We ate spelt toast with warm almond butter and eased into the day.
You sat on the floor sorting through a new box of 96 crayolas to find the color you wanted to draw with while I sifted through a crate full of broken crayons. The sound of peeling paper, snapping wax, and your little boy babbles wrapped around me like soft, welcoming wings.
The oven warmed our house and filled it with the scent of melting crayons.
The larger crayons cracked in the tin so we switched to mini muffin tins.
In the evening we stepped out onto crunchy snow and headed over to Dr. Berry's Christmas party where you played on the mat with the birthing ball and we spent time with a circle of lovely people.
We returned home close to your bedtime so we had a quick meal of soy-dogs and beans, and a few minutes of play before donning pajamas.
We shut the lights.
"Dark, dark" you said before I turned on the turtle light. I noticed the moon shining through the bedroom window and pointed it out to you. Excitedly you signed, "more, more" which is the sign that you use when you want something. Indeed, I would give you the moon if I could. We snuggled and you nursed in the moonlight.
Sweet dreams, my love!