don't blink.

I had one of those moments a few nights ago.

Lee had been in bed for a few hours.

Just as we were heading to bed ourselves he started crying.

I went into his bedroom to try and calm him and get him back to sleep.  He insisted on being held and not staying in bed. So I gathered him up into my arms and rocked back and forth while I walked and hummed in his ear. 

As I hummed and rocked he nuzzled his head into my shoulder and wrapped his tiny arms around me and held on with his little hands. And as I looked down at his arm wrapped across me I had one of those moments and, as cliché as it may sound, I could barely breathe.  Suddenly I felt, what must have been very nearly the full reality, of just how quickly life speeds along and how deeply I love my children. 

I could feel his childhood slipping out of my reach; how quickly he’d grow, physically and emotionally; more independent by the second it seemed.  In that moment I knew that before I could blink he’d be much “too big” to be held by his Momma or rocked to sleep. All too soon his hands would be far from tiny and his needs far from the simplicity that dominates them now.  Soon he’d be all but grown and it seemed like it was all going far too fast for my liking. So I looked down at his tiny hand and tried to soak it in and etch that moment into my memory.

You know I usually don’t put Lee to bed. 

As part of a conscious effort to have meaningful bonding for our children with their father we decided, before Lee was even born, that bedtime would be Kevin's special time with our children as much as possible. And it has been wonderful; he has a special relationship with them that we all treasure.

But I’m so glad I went in to soothe Lee that night.

Ironically I ended up staying up almost that entire night in his room with him and believe me, I was exhausted the next day. 

(Lest you think that I’m an invincible mom that a lack of sleep doesn’t affect.)

But I am sincerely grateful to be given a moment’s glance into how wonderful this time of babies and toddlers really is. For the reminder it provided to me of what is truly important; to set my phone with all its apps aside more often, to turn off the noise and listen to the chatter of my children, to be in the moment with them, to respond to their innocent desire to be noticed and loved, to find the joy in the moment because it is, in fact, slipping away. (no matter how long some days seem)

I love my boys.

 
Take my new advice and try not to blink too much.
 

We don’t want to miss anything.