These moments are happening less and less. Baby E crawls up onto my lap and snuggles his warm body against mine. After a few moments of fidgeting, his limbs begin to calm, his breathing becomes more steady, and his eyes start to close. I can feel his muscles relax and the weight of his body press harder into mine. That’s when I know he’s asleep.
I sit there, careful not to disturb him while I relish in a moment I recognize as fleeting. He’s growing up and it’s happening quickly. So I kiss the top of his head, I let his hair tickle my face, and I try to memorize it all- the smell of his hair, the rhythm of his breath, the twitching of his mouth as he dreams. Were it in my power I’d stop time. I’d linger in these moments until I had my fill. But I can’t, so I’ll treasure them in my heart and recall them when he’s grown.