During Colin's nap today, I had put away my book, (which was hard to do since I’m on the last of the Dark Tower Series, "The Dark Tower" and that accounts for my language in the last post, may it do ya fine) and focused on my Son. I ran my fingers through his silky, sandy colored hair. My hands glided over the satin skin of his arm, stopping at his hand and stroking his fingers softly. At my breast, Colin's sucking became slower and infrequent and his big beautiful eyes, still a little blue but now, mostly brown, were closing in the sweet lull of sleep.
Colin's breathing deepened and, his body lay relaxed, warm and soft in the crook of my arm. In the soft light that filtered in through the curtained bedroom window, Colin glowed.
My eyes focused on the sweet bend of his arm and I thought to myself, "One day, that arm is going to be muscular, covered with hair, throwing and pushing and pulling with the strength and zeal of a young man but for now, it is STILL encased in the milky pink skin and fat of a baby".
I sighed and my heart said, "He's still my Baby".
I looked at Colin's face; cheeks pinkend with sleep, lips pursed gently around my nipple, and felt my heart swell with love, peace and joy.
Still my Baby.
This toddler, exasperating, exhausting, wonderful marvel of a toddler is still my baby. I don't know for how long he will stay this way, sweet, pink and cream, wide-eyed and squishy with lovely baby fat that makes him so damn huggable but, I'm going to sponge it up, this time right now when he is full of the light of discovery, standing on the precipice of true toddlerhood, still some ways away from Childhood.
I don't know if My Parents felt as if they wanted to sop up all the baby love I lived, I don't know if any parents truly feel this way, even if I think I do but, we know deep down in our hearts, don't we?
As our sweet half selves, our sweet gifts from another, grow with the seasons, time blurring and melding until one day, our eyes truly open and before us stands a five year old, a ten year old, a twelve year old, a sixteen year old, an eighteen year old and then they're Men and Women and walking away from our homes with the shoes on their feet, life burning bright, strong and true in their hearts and souls, igniting their eyes, shrouding them in an aura of passion and zest for the very life they walk.
Throughout it all, we chant, "You're My Baby; you'll always be My Baby. You came into my life, through my body or in my heart or both and I remember that sweet day I saw your face for the very first time...and yes, you have grown, it is possible, it is reality but, somewhere inside of me, you are still My Baby".
My Mom would and still always tells me that I'm her Baby Girl and I always will be. When I was a little girl, I loved this. When I was teenager, I demurred, inside bristling at the insinuation that I was a baby. When I was a grown woman, I heard her words of love and truth with exasperation, feeling like she would never see me as a Woman.
As a Mother...her words are sweet and filled with love and reach deep, deep into myself, the parts of her that she planted in me and I am bathed with peace and gratitude.
I understand now.
I will say the same to Colin, "you will always be My Baby Boy".
He will hug me for awhile then, he'll look embarrassed and shuffle his feet, further down the road he will roll his eyes and say, "MOOOOM!" and one day...one day when my heart has planted a piece of His heart to grow and live, I will say it and, he won't roll his eyes or look embarrassed.
Hopefully, unlike me and my Mom, we will be within close travelling distance and we can look each other in the eyes when this happens and that magic I feel with My Mom will burst forth and yes...yes...even though he is grown, he will be My Baby again and still and always.
I ask Colin if I can love him forever and, he says, "Nooooo". I ask him why not and he says, "Noooo".
Guess what? He doesn't make the love in my heart. It's there forever. =)
2 months ago