Wednesday, December 7, 2011

PYHO: The Weight Of Him

The to-do list I wrote up crinkles in my pocket as he adjusts his position, letting out a little sigh of contentment.  My left arm is asleep because when he fell asleep, he leaned onto my bicep.  The room has gone dark in the last hour, but the lights remain off.  The cats are begging for food, the dishes offend the eyes, and fur swirls under the fan along the carpet.

All of the thing that need to be done are, again, put on the back burner.  The Christmas gifts I need to finish?  The pie I promised?  The laundry that never gets put away? 

None of it matters in these moments.  The weight of him, the incredible warmth he gives off, the softness of his skin.  These things combined create magic, a feeling indescribable by words alone.  Perhaps with the addition of an orchestra and light show it could be done.  But I don't think so.  This time with him, these stolen moments when other things should be done, are priceless.

One day in the not-so-distant future, he won't need me as much.  He won't think the perfect place to rest is my body.  He will want to run, to jump, to have independence.  I will have to sneak the nuzzles of his neck, his scalp.  Tracing the lines of his hands, the creases in his wrists will no longer be a daily possibility, but a stolen luxury.

One day he will actually become the little boy I see in him so often now, and not a baby anymore.  He won't roll over seeking me, sleeping only when his hand comes in contact with my shoulder, when he can smell my skin close to his.  He won't regularly bury his head in my chest, bashful and loving, or reach up to touch my cheek while nursing or drinking a bottle.

And so that to-do list in my pocket will wait, will grow wrinkled, be lost until it turns up in the wash.  The cats will wait a little longer for food.  The furbaby dust bunnies will accumulate and the dishes will pile up.  Because in these moments, the weight of him is the most important thing, the most precious thing.  It is my reason for waking, for working.  The rest can wait while I drown in his softness, his odor, his absolute trust in me.  The rest doesn't matter while the weight of him fills my heart.

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11 comments:

  1. My to-do list crinkled in my pocket just last night. Sometimes, the #1 best thing "to do" on that list? Is to ignore the list!

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  2. It's definitely more important to spend that time with him. The to-do lists will always be there.

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  3. I've given up on chores unless Miss A is content or is along side me helping, I'd much rather say, "excuse the disaster, A & I have been playing". Great post!

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  4. It is a magic time. And it does fly by. Some other joys come along, but these will be alive only in your memory.

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  5. the house will keep, babies don't. Go YOU! enjoy him

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  6. Sigh...snuggle time is so much better than laundry. Sweet!

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  7. Love love love this!!! Just awesome :)

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  8. Beautifully written!!!!! And so very true!!!

    The last 2 days Cole has wanted me to stay with him at school in the morning until his teacher opens the door for them 5 minutes before the bell rings. I was a little annoyed at first because all I could think about was going home to a quiet house for at least a couple hours and sipping on some tea while catching up on my blog reading. But then as I watched some of the older kids gathering in front of their classes...no parents in sight...I realized how grateful I should be that he even wants me to still be there with him. No signs of embarrassment that he wanted his Mommy, no hurry to get rid of me...he wanted me there, holding his hand until he was tucked away in his classroom.

    Even now, still makes me teary-eyed when I think of what an honor it was to still feel needed.

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  9. Wow! I am taken by your writing Genevieve. Do I smell an author? Hmmm. Lovely stuff. Thank you, mother of my son's half/brother. Modern families, indeed!

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