I laid William in his crib, tucked his sweet fists just so, caressed his little toes, and arranged his quilt over his sleeping form. Then I turned to Jameson, asleep in his bed, and —
I love that boy.
His face, so peaceful, so beautifully formed. Perfect eyelashes, slender nose, soft cheeks. My boy.
I leaned down to touch his hair and smelled baby shampoo. A sob caught in my throat. Only a few more years of scrubbing that head, singing rub-a-dub songs, and then he’ll be a big boy, taking his own showers. I wish it could last forever.
He’s suddenly so tall, so independent, so passionate. There are more and more struggles to listen to Mama and obey, but I find that more and more, I really like him. I watch him and see glimpses of who he’ll be, and it makes me smile. Sometimes, I even think, I can’t wait to know him in 20 years —
But I can’t imagine how much I’ll miss the three year old sleeping sweetheart who still needs his Mama.