This morning Kenny and I sat in his rocking chair in one of the rare moments he is not completely kenetic energy. He let me hold him close and he rested his head on my chest, loudly “DA DA DAing” along while I quietly sung songs to him. After about 15 minutes, the “DA DAs” got quieter and I started humming “I’ll Fly Away.” His little body curled into a half moon around my torso. His tired eyes looked up into mine and his head got a little heavier as we rocked. He heard Dudley’s toenails on the pergo outside the door, and instead of bolting upright and shouting, “DUDEEEE!” as he usually does, Kenny barely shifted his eyes to the door and softly murmered, “duuudeee.”
My mind started to wander and as the minutes ticked by, the little guy drifted to sleep. We stayed that way for awhile. These are the precious moments. These are the moments when I look down at him and wonder, when he turns into a 6’2″, high school football star, will he still want to hug his mama? Will he like me when he’s older? Will he remember these songs I used to sing? I also wonder about any other children we may have someday… will I have time to have these moments with them, too?
Then I remembered the bills to pay, the laundry to fold, the dishwasher to unload. He may sleep 15 minutes or 2 hours, so I need to get going with what I can. His soft gumby body stayed in exactly the same position he was in when he was curled around me as I laid him down, one arm in an arc above his head, one leg crossed over the other. He could almost be mistaken for a mini Baryshnikov, if not for the hawaiian teeshirt and tiny cargo shorts.
My heart is so full it’s hard to leave. I just want to stay and soak in the miracle that he is. How did I deserve such richness?
PS – I called and rescheduled the pediatrician appointment. There’s no way I’m waking this kid up from a nap so I can go talk about him not napping. We’ll see what tomorrow brings. Hope springs eternal.
