Sometimes

Sometimes I rock you a little longer than necessary when you wake up in the night.
I love to feel your warm body grow heavy as you fall back asleep.
Sometimes I pluck you right out of your crib and put you in my bed.
I love when you snuggle next to me and then wake me up with a well-planted, drooly kiss.
Sometimes I hug you and kiss you and tell you I love you so many times each day that I think you might grow weary.
It's important that you know how much I care.
Sometimes I stop right in the middle of housework so that I can get down on the floor with you and chase you around, making you squeal or read the book that you bring me.
It's important that you know I love you more than clean dishes or a tidy room.

And when time has passed and I look back on these sweet years, I will be glad that I didn't hold back. For no mother ever thinks, "I wish I hadn't rocked her as much or snuggled in bed or peppered her with countless kisses. I think I smothered her with love and all that quality time with mom just spoiled her rotten." No. I will be so, so glad that I did not hold back. After all, people tell that tomorrow will come and you will be an adult yourself.