Little Hands and Late Nights

Little laughs echo around us,

tiny hands reaching up to be held.

Piter pater on the floor,

more little giggles.

Loud noise, laughing and sounds of play fill the home.

It's a never ending job, and it doesn't pay cash.

I am paid with hugs, kisses, and precious little drawings from the imaginations of toddlers.

Once asleep it's all quite, no more noise of the hustle and bustle that is our day to day.

Silence fills the night, until the late hours.

The key slices into the locks and opens the door, and in comes the rest of my world, the rest of what completes me.

Back from work, a shower is taken and clean clothes are put on.

Food is eaten, as dinner was hours ago.

But that's the price he pays working third shift.

Sleep schedules are always off and don't ever last the same.

Snuggles at four in the morning, and light sleeping.

And then the day starts all over again, with the little laughs and tiny hands.

The little voices calling out to you.

Breakfast made, cartoons on.

Daily tasks to be completed, and yet I find away to make lunch and play with the little ones.

Piter pater of little feet running around,

laughs and giggles as they play together.

He leaves for work and so starts the third shift life of a girlfriend and mother.

games played, trips to the store made.

Bubble baths galore, with millions of bath toys.

water all over and messes to be cleaned up.

Dinner is made, movies are watched.

cleaning is always going on, but it never stays clean.

a organized mess, is what this daily life is.

sound asleep the little ones are.

doors are locked until that hour we so eagerly await for.

it's the little things we have.

tiny hands reaching for us, late night snuggles, and cartoons galore.

I wouldnt have it any other way.

It's with them I am truly at peace and grounded.