My lap is rather full these days.
All hours of the day and night little ones clamber onto my lap looking for comfort and connection.
I hold the baby cradling him against my heart and listening to his soft breathes flow in and out as he finds comfort in the beat of my heart, in the rise and fall of my chest, in being on my lap.
I rock back and forth with only the dim glow of the nightlight illuminating my toddler as he pulls my arms around himself and says, “Hold me, Mom.” So I hold him as he finds comfort in the soft embrace, in the rocking motion, in being on my lap.
I smooth the hair back from her face and feel her warm forehead—no wonder she has awakened. Blankets are tucked about us as I resign myself to a day spent with a sick child on my lap. And she finds comfort in the change of plans, in the cuddles, in being on my lap.
I pull him in close and listen as he struggles to get the words out between his sobs. The scooter went one way, but he went another leaving scrapes on his hands and knees. As I wipe away the dirt and place the bandage over the raw skin, he finds comfort in the gentle touch, in the soothing words, in being on my lap.
He jumps onto my lap to show me his latest treasure—a wooly caterpillar scurrying up his arm. With exuberance and shrieks of excitement he describes how he caught his new pal. He has come seeking someone to share his excitement and to connect with him, and he finds it in being on my lap.
He awakens and finds me to crawl up on my lap. It doesn’t matter to him that his baby brother is already there; he knows his mommy will always make room for one more. He just needs that bit of connection to fall back asleep, and he finds it in being on my lap.
They gather with books in hand and pile onto my lap for story time. Characters come to life and adventures beckon their imaginations as I read. And they find connection in the stories and in being on my lap.
A full lap isn’t always easy—in fact, there are days being so sought after leaves me feeling depleted and weary. I have moments when I tell them, “Mommy just needs some space right now.” There are nights I long sag farther beneath the covers instead of answering their calls for me.
But these days, my lap is meant to be full. With a house full of little children, cups of coffee grow cold, housework gets neglected, and my own plans are pushed aside in favor of offering my lap as a place of comfort and connection.
For I’ve come to realize not only am I offering the gifts of comfort and connection to my children, but I am also giving myself the gift of memories.
A full lap today means a heart full of memories to carry me through all my tomorrows.
This is the beautiful storybook I am reading to my children in the picture. It is absolutely delightful with gorgeous illustrations. (affiliate)
