Of Little Boys and And Big Beds

"Perhaps I had a wicked childhood. Perhaps I had a miserable youth. But somewhere in my wicked, miserable past there must have been a moment of truth. For here you are, standing there, loving me. Whether or not you should. Nothing comes from nothing. Nothing ever could. So somewhere in my youth or childhood. I must have done something good. For here you are, standing there, loving me. Whether or not you should."

There was a time when Oren couldn't speak in sentences. There was a time when he couldn't even speak at all. That place seems so far away and now when I close my eyes I can conjure up his little voice from memory, it is so engrained in my mind.

Last night as we lay in his new bed side by side he rolled over and lay his head on my belly and looked up at me.

"I love you, mommy"

I might have died and gone straight to heaven in that moment. And I thought to myself, as I took his perfect face in my hands and kissed it all over, what have I ever done to deserve this sweet, little wisp of a boy with all this magic in his soul and that twinkle in his eye? He is my everything. He is hands clenched tight with lightening bugs inside two proud, tiny fists. He is popsicle stained shirts and dirty, bare feet. He is golden, soapy smelling hair and a perfect neck for nuzzling into. He is eyebrows arched, brown eyes wide, taking in the world and testing all its limits. He is goofy grins and endless laughter and energy for days. Until he isn't, when all he wants to do is cuddle up with his mama and let the lazy minutes roll by...tick, tick, tick. And I have to remind myself to stop and relish in these minutes. I let myself get lost in the slow movement of time, allowing that the chores and emails and whatever else can wait. So I lay there with him as long as he wants until he gets comfortable in his big, new bed and finally lets himself give in to sleep, and maybe I do too, for just a little while. Curled up around his little body and smelling his sweet breath on my face as we lay nose to nose like so many nights before. My little boy, my baby no more.

"I love you, too"