last night, our 15 month old (omg, she is really that old) got hungry. growth spurt. she is 15 months old and already wearing 2T clothing. big baby girl felt the need to grow some more.

anyway, she woke up needing a bottle. there was a little light in her room from the street lights. but she curled up in my lap, with her sweet blonde curls brushing against my chin. i rocked her and gave her the bottle. the house was quiet except for the few creeks of the rocking chair. there was something sacred in that moment. i am not sure i can describe it, but, it was tender. i feel that same awe when i tip-toe into her room at night after she is asleep to make sure she is covered. her little peaceful, angel looking face asleep and breathing rhythmically catches me each time. maybe its the innocence. maybe its the dependence. i am not sure what it is, but bed time and rocking time is something sacred.