Sleep, baby, sleep. Thy father’s watching the sheep. Thy mother’s shaking the dreamland tree, and down drops a little dream for thee.” -Elizabeth Prentiss
To you my sweet boy, as you drift off to dreamland…
I know the curve of your delicate nose, the angle of your feather-soft eyelashes, the shape of your perfect little lips, the delicate rose color splashed along your plump cheeks, the calmness of your breath, the way you wrap your dimpled little fingers around my shirt and give it a squeeze that seems to say, “hold me a little tighter, hold me just a little longer,” the weight of your growing body in my arms … I know every detail about you. I know all of this because each night as you drift off to dreamland I stare down at you and reflect on the baby you are and the big boy you are becoming.
While getting ready for bed has its challenges, these precious moments as you quietly slip into slumber make it all worth it. The way you nestle perfectly into my arms reminds me that I was made for you and you were made for me. I stare at you in complete and total awe, and in these moments, the exhaustion from the day instantly melts away and I am reminded of what a miracle you truly are.
As I gaze at your silhouette and reflect on our day, I often wonder if I gave you enough… Did I give you enough smiles? Did you get enough hugs? Did I brighten your day? Did we explore the world around us? Did we have enough fun? These are the thoughts that race through my mind at blinding speed as you look up to me with that glassy look in your eyes, the final look you give before you drift off to dreamland. Part of me always wants to wake you again to hear one more giggle, get one more smile and relish in the baby you are for one more moment before you awake one day older.
My sweet child, this soft mama heart has one request, please don’t rush it. Don’t rush time. Don’t rush growing up. Don’t rush childhood. Slow down. I know that you want to run before you walk, to keep up with your brother. I hear your baby coos slowly transforming into words. I see you taking in the world all around us, and in those fleeting moments of calm, I see the young man you will one day become. But please son, don’t rush it.
Where once a tiny five pound baby lay, there is now a rambunctious eight month old ready to take on the world. And just as your brother before you did, you are showing me how fast childhood really goes.
You are mine, and I am yours. Forever and for always.