When the clock strikes 11

Every night when all eyes are closed and the only sounds I hear are the soft snores of four of the sweetest blessings,

I wander through the house 'doing the mama round'.

I rearrange quilts, move over dogs who hog beds,

push hair out of faces, kiss pale cheeks,

whisper words of love and encouragement, and sometimes even ask forgiveness for 

mama-failings through the day,

all the while knowing that this privilege is a great one.

It's a joy and a gift.

Not to be taken for granted.

But instead to be savoured.

So I do.