Never Take Any Moment For Granted.

Tonight I rocked my baby to sleep.  It wasn't quite eight o'clock yet and the sun had nearly set, leaving the sky a glowing grey.  Parker was tired and rubbing his eyes, squirming in my arms to try to turn to snuggle up against my chest.  While the boys sat engulfed in the fury of playoffs, I quietly took my leave and went to snuggle my baby.  I sat there, the room vaguely illuminated in dusk's soft blue light, the faint hum of the standing fan drowning out the noise below us, admiring my sleeping angel.

There is nothing more relaxing, more precious, more priceless, than holding your baby in your arms while they sleep.  All day long they run, climb, fall, scream and laugh.  My children drive me crazy sometimes, so much so that I often can't wait to get them to bed at the end of the day.  But every so often, I ground myself, and remind myself that time is fleeting.  They wont stay little for long.  Before I know it, I'll have teenagers who never come home, who avoid me at the mall, and who fail to answer my worried phone calls when they're out. 

So tonight, I steadied my heart, calmed my breathing, and lulled my baby to sleep with soft humming.  I watched him descend into a deep, protected slumber that only a mother's arms could produce.  I breathed in deeply, committed his smell to memory, and kissed him gently on the forehead.  When I finally put him down, I came downstairs to begin the process again with Hunter.  Although he's a big boy now, I picked him up and we whispered our good-nights to each other on the way up the stairs.  I tucked him in and treated myself to a quick snuggle and tickle before stealing a kiss and turning out the lights. 

Moments like these are worth dying for.