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    Best of Then Came Isaiah: Just Us Three

    I was looking back through old blogs and I almost teared up at this old one.  It was originally posted on March 6, 2008.  I was clearly smitten with my brand new Isaiah and I find myself fastly becoming smitten again with Mr. Wesley -- although I still have 22 days until little man makes his arrival!
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    Just Us Three


    On a perfect day, I wake around 9am to blades of sunlight peeking through my blinds. The first thing I see are my husbands dark brown eyes peeking out over our bronze comforter. I can tell he is smiling at me by the way the corners of his eyes wrinkle. I hear Isaiah's happy wake up talk from his crib. I look over and he is playing with his feet. His head turns at the sound of me stirring and he gives me one of his big toothless grins because he is happy to see me awake. My husband gives me a good morning kiss and I rise to take Isaiah out of his crib. My husband wraps his arms around me and presses his lips to my cheek as I press mine to Isaiah's. I dart out the room to prepare Isaiah's bottle while my husband begins his diaper change.



    On a perfect day, Isaiah drinks all of his bottle perfectly satisfied, has a big burp, then sits up on the bed and plays with his stuffed duck while my husband and I dream out loud about the promise of our future. My husband has a plate of scrambled eggs with cheese, and I don't complain. I have two slices of bread with grape jam and cup of tea. We watch VH1 soul and laugh at an old Guy video, even getting up to dance with each other and Isaiah. While Isaiah naps, we write together... a poem, a short story, or both, and then we share it with each other. We get Isaiah dressed, take a drive to the beach, because its perfectly sunny, there is not a cloud in the sky. We listen to the music CD we gave out as a favor at our wedding. We sing together to For the love of you by the Isley Brothers, hold hands to Crash into me by Dave Matthews Band and we meet eyes to It's getting late by Floetry. We are wearing short sleeves, but we have jackets in the car, because it will be chilly when the sun goes down. Isaiah plays with the sand and he doesn't put any in his mouth. He laughs when I clean the sand from between his toes and falls asleep as the sun kisses his caramel cheeks. We don't talk much... with our words. We just take it all in, the sun making its slow descent into the horizen, the waves crashing against the shore, the seagulls in a distance witnessing the day. We eat lunch and dinner on the beach. My husband throws our food away, so that the birds don't come too close because he knows I get scared. At dusk, we pack up. Make our way back home. We listen to Isaiah's favorite song CD, while we sing along and peek at Isaiah in his baby mirror as he goes from laughing, to smiling, to drifting off. When we get home, we all get in bed together. My husband and I tickle Isaiah and watch him laugh. I bathe him and rock him to sleep. In the dark, my husband and I dance to no music and fall asleep in each others arms. On a perfect day, there are no fears, no worries, no end, no lonely, just us three, just our dreams.

    2 comments:

    Dina said...

    This is just beautiful. So often we are not made aware of true, honest and real African-American love and family. Your post is like a breath of fresh air.

    Tiara Faith said...

    Thanks, Dina. :-)

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