I just finished putting Sammy down for his nap. Sleeping for him (and consequently for the rest of us) has been hard lately. He’s been waking at 11 PM, 3 AM, 5AM and then wanting to start his day at 6 AM. Ugh. Oh, and he only wants to sleep if Mommy or Daddy are there beside him.
At least that’s what I thought.
But just now he actually wanted to hold my fingers while he fell asleep. I whispered my usual lullaby to him called the “I Love You” song. It goes like this… “I loooooove you. I loooooooove you.” I may not be Sondheim, but he likes it. J
For a moment, life was perfect. Seriously. Just look at that beautiful expression…his tiny nose, the “Martinez nose” as we call it, his one link to his Hispanic ancestry on his sweet ivory face. Those long, dark eyelashes! (Why do the boys always get the best lashes?!) His round, soft cheeks like peaches asking to be kissed. In that small moment I knew I couldn’t ask for anything more.
For a beat I waited there, missing it already. I ended the perfect moment! Do I try to stick my fingers back in his grasp? Do I risk waking him up or the other children needing me and barging in? No, the moment was over and it was time to move on to the rest of the day.
I used to hear people talk about poor choices or difficult circumstances and say that they would never change what they went through because it made them who they are, even the bad they went through. I would roll my eyes and think they were just saying that to make themselves feel better, that if they could do it all again of course they would live differently. Now I know what they meant.