Last night, Finnegan asked me to rock him to sleep.
I should preface this by saying that I never get chosen over Daddy for bedtime stories & rocking. Ever.
It's ok with me that he has a special time with Dave, the evenings are usually when I am catching up on blogging & gettting through my Reader and spacing out in front of the tv & picking up, often simultaniously. I get him all day, we have naptime together to snuggle and talk and read stories.
But last night, he picked ME! I felt like the cool kid in school chosen first for a team. I walked in there with a smile on my face giving a little triumphant skip in my step.
It rarely happens. Ahem.
So, I am sitting there rocking him and feeling him snuggle up as tight as he could get to me, bookie in between his head & my shoulder.
All I could think in that moment is REMEMBER.
I wanted to hold that moment, that feeling in my head forever. It seems with every blink he grows into a young man. One year. Two Years. Three years. Soon he will be sixteen and we will 'hate' each other and he'll be too cool to give his Mama hugs in front of other people, if at all. And I want to keep this in my memory to get me through those times.
Of Finn, curled up, snuggling his head onto my shoulder, my arms wrapped tightly around him, the glider squeaking its telltale squeek, babbling incessantly about silly things, readjusting slightly so he can be closer to me, smelling less like a baby and more like a boy. Choosing his Mama. In that moment, I could think of nowhere I'd rather be.
And when he's grown and has children of his own, maybe he'll read this and snuggle his little boy a bit tighter and feel the same way.