While you fall asleep, I think I will hold you just a little bit longer. You're two now - and how fast you have grown... and how fast you go! I don't get these moments much anymore. You are so curious and fascinated by the world around you, I have learned to take advantage of your more subdued, rare breaks. Tonight, you let me hold you while you fell asleep.
It's been awhile since I heard that sound. I can almost hear your eyes grow heavy as I watch them sink to a close. Your breath quiets to long hushes from the speedy gasps of toddler play. The pacifier starts to hang outside of your mouth and then you start to dream. I can feel the limp in your arms but somehow you maintain the shape to cuddle - to be held - to be protected. My heart floods. It floods this massive wave of love through the rest of my body. A feeling I never felt until you came into this world, until you made me a mother.
Instantly, I start to wonder. What will he discover tomorrow? What new words will he put together? What type of music will he listen to? Will he go to school dances? I hope he searches - never stops being curious. I hope continues to explore and love every moment of this life. I hope he finds love.
And then, I remember the words of a mother, fresh from our conversation yesterday. Her daughter is 26 and has fled to a life of her own. She says to me, 'think of your life as a meter stick. This part here, barely a quarter of it - is your life before children. This small just above an eighth of it, is your time with your babe, until he is about 10 years old. Then this small eighth is from 10 until about 18 - and then he's gone. He is living his own life. At that point, you are only halfway through that meter stick. Hold onto him. Whenever you can - it goes that fast and is only for such a little amount of time.'
She's right, my sweet boy. It has gone so fast. It feels like just yesterday, your father looked at me with tears in his eyes as he brought you to my chest and told me we just had a little boy, Soren Paul. That you were just learning to hold up that little head and learning to crawl. I swear you were just furniture cruising and signing. That can't be though - because you are so big now and already so independent.
So, for now - when you'll let me, I will hold you close. Wipe a small strand of fine, golden hair from your brow and listen. Listen to you breath and fall asleep.
xo
momma
