Z took a fantastic nap at daycare today (5 minutes shy of 3 hours!) and was in a very chipper mood this evening, up until the point where I dropped the container of wipes on his head, and made him cry like crazy while changing a poopy diaper. (For the record, the container of wipes was nearly empty, and I think I startled him more than I actually hurt him, but still.) Daddy got home very late, Z was almost done with dinner when Mark got home.
While we ate dinner quickly and Z amused us by slapping his hands on his head and squealing open mouthed in an unwitting parody of "Home Alone", I told Mark "I have GOT to do some writing tonight! I've got a call with my blogging buddy in the morning, I'm at least 2 posts behind, and I need to spend time on it."
Normally bed time is a surprisingly easy ritual. I'm still trying to move the actual "down into bed" time back to closer to 7:00, after reading a post from a wise friend about sleep training, but we didn't hit that benchmark tonight. We put Z down about 7:30, and he laid down for all of 7 minutes before popping back up and grabbing the power cord of my laptop and tugging enthusiastically. I encouraged him, softly, to lay back down and rest his head, but he was not having it.
After a few more tugs, he started fussing. I texted Mark, who was upstairs finishing up some house chores "It's like he HEARD me say I need to write tonight. He won't lay down and is fussing!" I slammed the laptop closed, and let out a tortured sigh. "Fine. FINE.", I muttered, and I scooped up Z to go over to the rocking chair for some snuggle time.
I pulled his favorite blanket off the back of the chair, a Winnie the Pooh fleece blanket that I bought for him 15 years ago, before I even knew there was a him in my life. I covered him, and we settled in with his head on my shoulder for a few minutes before he pulled the blanket over his face and lurched sideways with his head in the crook of my arm. We rocked, and I sang softly to him while he nuzzled into his blanket.
Then he grabbed my hand and brought it up to his cheek, wrapping his arms around my wrist and let out a big sigh. I stroked his cheek and kept rocking and singing softly to him while he drifted off, holding onto me.
A few weeks ago, another wise friend posted a link to this story about "savoring every moment" with your child. I try, I really do, but the complete and total loss of self gets overwhelming sometimes. I want to do what I want to do, when I want to do it. I don't want to go to bed every night by 7:30 because I don't want to leave Z alone downstairs. Sometimes I want to watch TV, or write, or read, or play a game on my computer. I want to listen to music too loudly and sing at the top of my lungs and stay out late and drink too much. I want to be selfish.
And then there are these moments. Moments when my little boy needs nothing more than my heartbeat, my hand on his cheek, and the sound of me singing softly to him for all to be right in his world. It's my own moment of Kairos, and the one that I will remember as I go to sleep tonight, and I'm sure one I'll reflect on when he's too grown up to want anything to do with me at bedtime. I'll hold this one close to my heart and be thankful for it.
Thank you, Zachary, for reminding me to stop and enjoy this moment outside of time with you.
I absolutely love this. Soooo sweet. This reminds me so much of what I talk about in my mothering as meditation workshop- how we have to keep trying to turn our attention back to the moment, the breath and the little person right in front of us...even though we are more likely to be thinking about what we need to/want to do which isn't putting the child to bed-again! :)
ReplyDeleteAww, so sweet! I love those moments. But also I totally understand about wanting to live YOUR life too. Get a baby monitor and re-join the adults above-ground after 7:30! Mommy deserves that.
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