A moment to Cherish

It's quite late to be writing a post (12:35 to be exact), but like many who keep note pads by their bed to jot down thoughts, ideas or revelations when they may strike, I felt compelled to come downstairs and type up my own thoughts as they occurred to me a moment ago.

I know I am needing to get thoughts and photos together about our big trip to Saskatchewan recently. I promise a blog post dedicated entirely to this very soon.

This week Milan cut his first tooth. December 10th, Sasha, Milan and I were all upstairs hanging out in bed all cozy as could be. Milan has been in the teething process for at least a month now. We knew it because he was suddenly drooling quite a bit and always chewing on his hands, fingers and fist if he could. Poor little guy is so young to be teething that developmentally, he cannot even hold a teething ring to offer relief. So he was gnawing away at daddy's knuckle when daddy announced that he felt the tooth biting into him! We knew it was coming, just not quite this fast. It's the front bottom tooth on the left. Wouldn't ya know it that the very next day, a tiny sliver of the tooth right next to it popped up too.

Anyhow, before getting off track, this teething thing is taking a toll on him in the sense that he is just exhausted. Tonight he went to sleep around 6:30 and has woken up twice for some sampling of mummy's milk, then promptly dozes off again.

The most recent feeding at 11:20 had me in the spare bedroom laying next to the little stinker. He doesn't stink, really. Even when he needs a bath he smells like the heaven's and all the glory in the world. He's fed, changed and fast asleep and I couldn't be more awake, darn it. We're laying next to one another all bundled up in Great-Grandma Seitz's wool quilt, and I can't help but to stare at my life's greatest achievement with wonder.

He is growing up so fast! I know about a million people told me that he would, but he really is. I found myself thinking, "I want to remember this...". Hence me sitting here at 12:43 typing away. I want to remember the chunks that are his healthy cheeks, his almost-not-there eyebrows, the dimples where his knuckles are and the chubby fingers. I want to be able to call upon the image of the creases at his wrist, almost like he is wearing a sleeve that ends just there. The beauty of calmness that lies over his eyes while he sleeps, and the occasional twitch of his eyes underneath their lids telling me he is dreaming. Is he dreaming of the kisses I just planted all over his face even while he sleeps? I know that our time sleeping side by side is somewhat coming to an end. It's never going to be as easy as it is now to pluck him up when it's nap time and curl up with him. Holding him close, tight and warm, with my arm around him. There will come a day that cuddling with mommy just won't be on his to-do list, his idea of 'cool things to do', there won't be enough play time in the hours of the day let alone time to canoodle with mommy.

Y'know, I bitched and complained about breastfeeding for awhile back. My cousin, Suzanne, told me that it'll change and it will cease to feel like such a chore, and I may even come to enjoy it. Lately this is definitely the case, because it means time that we can just lay there and let time tick away. Nothing else matters while we breastfeed. Who cares if the phone is ringing or there are chores to do? I can listen to him guzzle the milk from my breast and nuzzle close to him. Listen to him breathing and touch his soft fuzzy hair, which is also just one more thing that is growing and changing on my remarkably perfect little man. He doesn't even know how many times I have taken his soft little hand and caressed my own face with it as he sleeps. It's the most divine feeling in the world, because exists little else in the entirety of the world that is that soft, that innocent, that pure. Nothing else matters during these moments, and they are the ones I want to remember forever.

I end now, leaving you to return to my little boyfriend, who doesn't even know I have left his side as he sleeps peacefully.

“We do not remember days, we remember moments.”
Cesare Pavese