with the touch of a tailor you saved this life for me and you have sewn it to beauty and i am grateful now and i will always be

My sweet boy, these past few weeks have been something else. You have quickly been growing into a big boy (or "beeee boyyyy", as you proudly boast) and basking in the thrill of using your words. You have so many now, and so many opinions to accompany them, and I am trying to catch up and keep up with you every day that passes. I remain relieved that despite your newly developing independence, we have regressed back into a brief session of cuddling when you wake up from your naps each afternoon -- if you take them, or even if you don't. We sit in your glider and you rest your head in between my shoulder and chin, your unruly hair sticking to my cheek, and you let me kiss your eyelids and breathe you in for those few brief moments. "Rock," you whisper, and so I sing that little song, the first thing I ever sang to you. We were in the hospital still, my body and my brain weakened by those strong drugs, and we rocked in the chair and sang about it, matter-of-factly: mommy and Ethan are rocking in the chair, mommy and Ethan are rocking in the chair, mommy and Ethan are rocking in the chair, rock, rock, rock, rock, rock. Daddy laughed at it then and he still does, though the song has stuck in all of it's unoriginality, and these days we sing it in the afternoon until you're awake and eager to play. I cherish these moments.

There is so much to cling to now, clearer than before, so much that is changing constantly. As you slip down from the glider and run to the door, reaching to pull the handle down and let yourself out into the hall, I wonder if this is the last time we will sit together and sing that song over and over. My thoughts are often interrupted by a beckoning shriek of "mommy!" You call me that now, mommy, instead of mama. I am mommy and it is the most beautiful sound I've ever heard each time you say it. I will cherish it always, throughout whatever is to come. I will cherish the bubblebaths with extra bubbles, the scent of lavender essence on the water, chia seeds stuck in sticky honey fingerprints on the side of the tub. "Out, no more" you request when you've had enough, when the bubbles begin to die down. "Mommy," you giggle as you climb onto my lap and into the oversized towel waiting for you.

"Who does mommy love?" "Me!" "Who do you love?" "George!"

I will hang onto these moments, I will hold them with me always.

1 comment:

  1. Lindsay this is so beautiful. If only they knew how profoundly their sweet words and snuggles and love touch our souls. xx


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