Monday, January 28, 2013
It was a beautiful winter's night. I was warm and snug in my jammies, anxious to crawl in bed and finally finish the book Unbroken then move on to another episode of Friday Night Lights (I'm halfway through the first season--my sister is the one who told me I should watch it. I'm hooked).
As I was farting around trying to finish my mundane bedtime tasks, a darling little voice floated from my son's room--"You go to sleep with me, mommy?"
I'm not gonna lie, it took me a moment to think through what was about to happen. I was going to give up my precious "me" time at the end of a tiring day (quiet time with a book! A television show that takes me out of my head) and try to cuddle with a squirmy 3 yr. old who will inevitably try to convince me to go make him a milkshake or bring chocolate or pretzels to bed. He'll want me to read him a book even though daddy already read him three. Then he'll want me to read him another one. And another. He'll jump on me and steal my covers.
Or so I thought.
I crept into his room and slid in bed next to him. Those lips! Those eyes! Those eyelashes! He is amazing to me. He rolled over and put his arm around me. He looked into my eyes and whispered, "I love you, Mommy." Then he softly touched my eyes, drawing them closed and said, "Go to sleep, Mommy." And then my friends--- he sang to me. He sang to me while he stroked my hair and my face. Starting at the crown of my head, slowly and gently making his way to the ends of my hair with those chubby little hands of his. This went on for about 5 minutes straight. I honestly thought my cardiac muscle would combust into a million pieces of glitter and my soul would float into paradise. I.Was.In.Heaven.
I couldn't cry or laugh or move. I was so completely engrossed in the present moment and my mind and soul were completely at one. Everything was clear and sweet and simple and wonderful. My life was perfectly aligned and I was in a state of pure bliss.
My Peter boy, my little man--he has been so amazing lately. He is growing up and calming down. He is understanding rules and consequences and learning how to make good choices. Someone once told my husband that 4 is the best age. I believe it. I'm so happy as a mom lately I hardly know what to do with myself. I never knew I could be this happy as a mother.
And that's the story of the intimate moment with my man. I don't want to forget it. I love my Peter boy. Oh, how I love him! Unbroken and Friday Night Lights can't hold a candle to the love of my baby boy. I'm so glad I made that choice.
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Posted by Molly Bice-Jackson at 1:47 PM