the husbands were out. the children were pj'd. and my fellow-mom/dear friend and i were climbing the stairs to set them all up in their little roosts. in rooms that are not my own, but have grown to be extensions of home.
my now-four-year-old boy took baby naps in these upstairs rooms while friend and i drank tea and spoke quietly of weighty and silly things during (now extinct) nap-filled afternoons. and now his sweet lanky form fills the guest bed and the girl is in the pack and play nearby. friend's sweet ones sleeping a wall away and welcoming me into their night-lighted haven to give goodnight kisses. a last conversation about mysterious animals as a blond one rests on my lap, then kisses, love and goodnights. babes that aren't mine, but have grown into my heart-places.
so i descend into the lamp-lighted space. and we fall into conversation again. the one that began years ago. a friendship that has spanned years, and grown into this mature comfort of home.
i don't think i need to tell you: blessings. rich heavenly blessings.