right now, at this very moment:

The house is quiet and that is a strange state for this particular house to be in. Just an hour ago, the older boys were dragging around a singing caterpillar and a singing helicopter. Around and around they went. Every time they passed by me and their nursing brother, the newborn's eyes would go wide as the ruckus washed past him.

The older boys are outside with Daddy now (glorious, wonderful, patient man that he is!) I peeked out the window at them and they are blowing bubbles (3 year old) and trying to eat sidewalk chalk (1 1/2 year old). Husband washed the dog (did I mention how very glorious he is?!)

The sun is setting slowly and the neighborhood stretching up the hill from our driveway looks as calm as I'm feeling.

Noah Baby (as my oldest calls him; for some reason it makes me think of the Santa Baby song... Know the one I'm thinking of?) is asleep upstairs. He fought one tiny arm free of the swaddling and now has his fist -the size of a large gumball- pressed against the side of his face. His hair is fluffy (like a newborn chicken!) and I want to lift him up against my shoulder and smell him, again, for the 52nd time today. And the 53rd time wouldn't be too many.