It's my privilege.

As the sun starts to go down, you slow down, too.
You yawn. You whine. Your head drops to my shoulder, as I use my one free hand to load that last bottle into the dishwasher.
I grab your lovey and your binky.
I carry you up the stairs.
Some days, my body combined with yours feels too heavy.
We plop in the chair...
And we rock.
You stare at me while I sing--always the same song--and I see the corners of your mouth curl up beneath your binky.
I love that moment--that moment of recognition.
I pull you closer, and you nuzzle against my chest.
You drift to sleep.
I lay you down in your crib.
The exhaustion hits me.
And then the love.
Always the love.