Jill’s boys

Have you ever read the book, Jo’s boys?  It’s one of Louisa May Alcott’s classics about Jo March and the lives of the boys she taught at Plumfield.  Jo is a mother and girl after my own heart, so I’m going to steal a moment from this week with each of my boys and tuck it away for safe keeping and revisiting. 


Not much of a night time cuddler.  Bed time is for sleeping and cuddling with body pillows, not wives, but randomly in the middle of the night I felt arms wrap around me. For no reason at all.  I didn’t let myself fall asleep until he rolled back over, I just wanted to soak it in.


He has a large cut on his leg and it’s still a little sore.  I touched it today to see how it was healing. 

Oh, don’t touch owey, Ok Momma?

said in the sweet two year old voice that he saves for moments he really wants to make me swoon.  

How very diplomatic of you Bosty.  I’ll let you lick your own wounds for now on.  And while we’re at it would you like to try wiping your own bum?  Just a thought Darling.  Just a thought.  



Boston went down perfect for his nap today and miraculously, perfect-nap day, lined up on spotless-house-before-noon day. 

What to do with my free time?  

I grabbed my Zekey baby popped in a movie, wrapped him like a burrito and cuddled him close.  About an hour into the movie I looked down at my baby and couldn’t turn away, so for the next while I settled into the couch and admired my boy as he slept.  Watching your children sleep is like re reading any CS Lewis book.  It never gets old and you always discover something new.  


Love those boys of mine.


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