This morning (2 am) I woke up to the tiny, grunting, shifting baby sounds coming from our monitor. I leaned over and clicked the video button to take a peek at my sleeping angel just to confirm that he was stirring. I'm working hard to not be a slave to my monitor at night which is why I leave it on the floor most nights now. Evan keeps telling me to just listen...don't watch. He's right...watching is entirely too nerve-wracking. Anyway, on my way out of bed I kicked what I thought was a sock out of the sheets to the floor...turns out it was a spit-up rag. Yep, stuck in my sheets. I shoved it in the front pocket of the sweatshirt I was wearing and went to my whimpering baby boy who was longing for dry "undies" and 3 ozs of the good stuff!
As I did just 3 hours before, I picked him up, kissed his cheeks and smiled as he stretched and hoped the diaper change would be a quick one. He laid on the changing table and stared at me as if to wonder, "Hey mom, didn't you wear that yesterday?" Yes, sweet boy....mommy doesn't know what time it is, what day it is or how long she's been wearing this sweatshirt. I'm almost afraid that when the time comes for me to actually put some effort back into how I look, Landon won't recognize me! LOL
I wish I could record the sound Landon makes when he first takes his bottle in his mouth.....you would think we hadn't fed him in weeks! He makes long, exaggerated gulping sounds for the first oz, then takes the last 2 ozs grunting with his eyes half closed. It's quite a sight...and sound :) He sits on my lap and clenches his fists which he holds together up under his chin as if praying to God..."Please don't let this bottle end...it's SO good!" But this morning, instead of clenching his left hand into a fist, he grabbed on to my pinky finger and held on for dear life. I laughed a little and let him hold on to me until he finished the last oz. Since he's had a little bit of reflux and a lot of uncomfortable gas, burping is essential! When I took the bottle out of his mouth to get one more good burp, I noticed that he was still holding on to my finger. I didn't want to let go....but the burp.....gotta get the burp! After the burp I laid him back in my arms to ensure that he was asleep and before long he had grabbed back on to my finger.
In his dimly lit room, I sat holding my sweet boy thinking about all the adventures we'd have together over the coming years. I thought about the near furture and crawling, talking, teeth...then thought about what he'd look like on his first day of school, reading with him, doing homework, wondering if he'd like sports or would he sing like his Daddy? Then my mind wandered into the teen years.....and as he laid there in my arms, which were beginning to get achy from holding him, I thought about how in about 15 years, when he'd rather not admit we're his parents.....I'll probably think back to this night with tears in my eyes, longing for his little fingers to be wrapped around my finger one more time. So, at 2:30 am, with two aching arms....I sat there for 15 more minutes with his little fingers holding me tightly....because I've been told "time flies" and I want to get all the squeezes out of those little hands that I can!
