My palm settles on the knotty valley of his spine, perfectly centered between bony, flesh-covered peaks; I remember when my hand covered his back.
That was a "yesterday" over 12 years in the making.
Though , I'm not quite prepared when he does. "I like it when you lay down with me, Mom…I fall asleep a lot faster!"
Like every mom, I hear my son's unspoken thought. It is the imagination of this boy (and countless others) that conjured the idea for Monsters, Inc., and he's much more likely to close tightly closet doors than to brush his teeth each night.
It is 11:09. After a Christmas break of late nights and sleeping til breakfast-for-lunch, this is my attempt two nights before school resumes to rediscover "bed time". I'm incredulous I couldn't do better. Eleven…early? The kid can sleep 10 hours straight–needs it–and I'm determined to shave off hours tomorrow.
Yesterdays….
Tomorrow….
I rest in the present.
Nested and spooned, I notice his feet stop just atop mine. He's grown. I want to slow time so my feet hitting the back of his ankles takes forever plus a day. It's a silly thought, I know, but I wish-think it anyway.
I'm annoyed with his older brother and sister; I rename them Mustang and Buffalo. He gallops down hardwood stairs at 11:17 on a mission; it probably involves raspberry tea and Cheetos. She clods down uncarpeted hall to the bathroom and I marvel how her hundred-pound frame carries itself like not one, but a herd of bison. It is 11:31, and with no interest in feigning my irritation, I hush them harshly with a dollop of shame.
I will never understand how they, despite my example, instruction, and most important, shared DNA, CANNOT duplicate the delicate sound of my own fairy steps. Or am I being unreasonable? Are "imperceptible footsteps" reserved only as a mother's super power?
I slip back under the covers and he snuggles to my side; my arm sashes his waist. Our bodies cast mountainous shadows on his wall and I smile while doubting he sees this. His eyes are likely closed. I absentmindedly count his breaths…and then reluctantly count the years before he leaves for college.
His fish tank babbles.
His body twitches.
He tagged the Sandman.
And I'm out.
I think this is perfectly wonderful.
Love this. And yes, the footstep thing. I live it every day.
I love this post. Snuggling with my kids while they’re falling asleep is one of my very favorite things to do (and I often end up asleep or at least half dozing, too). It is so peaceful, and it does often make me think of how quickly they grow up.
Finding a "cheer" in my gmail was perfectly wonderful, too! Thanks for the encouragement, lovie!
Thanks, Brigid…moms speak the same language, yes? 🙂
I think it speaks love to them, regardless of their love language…quality time, physical touch, encouragement, thought "acts of service" and "gift giving" are a bit of a reach. It does give you quiet time to think about much…and falling asleep on the job? Ummm…what's this of which you speak??? 😉 🙂
You are BACK! THIS is the writing from you that I so love! The kind that stirs nostalgia, making me want to wake my own children, just so that I can snuggle them back to sleep. Thanks for the reminder that children grow up too fast. Hugs!
That sounds like such a sweet moment…don’t remind me that my baby boy will be bigger than me someday, LOL!
Beautiful words to touch on raw and fresh emotion.
You will hold your children forever in your heart and spirit, no matter how big they grow.
I imagine you already know I thoroughly enjoyed writing this….and I'm SO pleased you enjoyed. New Years Hugs to YOU! 🙂
Faster than you think, girlieQ…faster than you think….!
And I still call 'em all "Baby"; I'm thankful they understand it's a term of endearment, NOT trying to make them be something they aren't anymore :).
I’ve been thinking about that lately. Somehow Baby Girl has now gotten a little taller than my shoulder 🙂 Sad and a bit scary at the same time. Sometimes I feel like I’ve blinked and missed her childhood. I mean, I know I was there, but really? It went by too fast!
A sweet moment. Thanks for sharing it.
THis! This, I love. So good, Robin.
It makes me ache. I love the stuff that makes me ache.
Robin, this is truly beautiful. And makes me want to sit here and cry.
It's a cruel thing the way time speeds up once you're a mom….!
Thanks for reading (& taking time to let me know), Sarah!
You know how there are some posts you wish your friends would actually see? THIS is one of them…so glad you hit my blog when it was up! xo
Thank you, Jo-Lynne…that means a lot. Except I don't mean I want you to cry…YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN FOR GOODNESS SAKES!!! xo
I never could understand why my kids could not whisper. They could never be sneaky. The footsteps-yes, like an elephant. Late at night you are supposed to think about these things! Is it only a mother who does? I think so.
nice Robin. Miss that.
I had grands here this past week, and those tiny little feet thunder down the hall . . . I mean 2 years old and 4 years old . . . and the baby is asleep!
It boggles the mind.
Robin, that was beautiful…I’ve felt those feelings so many times, now my baby boy is gone and I ache to feel that once again.
I love this!
And I completely agree about the fairy footsteps… The clomp, clomp, clomping stresses me out. But from what I hear… we’ll miss that clomping very soon.
🙂
Or maybe we're the only ones who articulate the thoughts?? Now I'm wondering!
What really boggles the mind is when the baby can SLEEP through it! So glad you got that visit, though…it does a grandmama good :)!
Oh, Kathy. Hon…you just made my heart hurt a little…xo.
I suppose next you'll be telling one day I'll miss mountains of laundry.
S i g h…I bet I really will!
You are such an amazing writer. I tell ya.
my baby girls are grown and married…yet when the one who moved away to california comes home to visit, like she did for CHristmas, we stay up very late at nite chatting about nothing, watching Grease on some old movie channel and she snuggles up close, under my arm and we cuddle, bring back the memories of years gone by….i am not sure if it is more for me or for her, but it is the magic that sustains me until her next visit home. i love being a Moma. Thanks for your beautiful writing.