just stop growing for a minute.

last night i just had to hold caleb. it was around 10pm, he'd been sound asleep for two hours already. it didn't make any difference, i just had to hold him. so i sneaked upstairs and scooped him up. he opened his eyes only barely for a quick, confused and hazy second. we sat in the rocking chair and instantly he was nuzzled into my neck sound asleep. it was heaven. just the fix i needed. he didn't do any growing in those minutes and godess, was i thankful. he's been doing so much of it lately, you see.

i noticed yesterday that babyness really reveals itself in hands and feet. and unlike every other babyness, these places remain captive in that infantile perfection much longer than any others. perfectly pudgy plumpness so good you could just eat it up. these are the places that, even after he'll learn all to well how to speak, how to run away, how to resist anything and everything, still remind me of the days not so long ago when he had no need outside of laughter and love and comforting snuggles. these places tell a story with a beginning so sweet the feelings remain long after the plot has charged full throtle into the unknown. so while in some moments my mother's heart is saddened by my ever growing, ever changing, evermore independent little man, at least i know i'll have a little more time to relish in those beautiful tiny places.