It’s 1:00 a.m. when I hear the baby cry. I peel myself out of bed and stumble down the hall. He is lying with eyes wide open and wiggles happily at me.I find his pacifier and stuff it in his mouth, eager to return to bed. He cries and spits it out forcefully.
I take my place with him in the rocking chair. Rather than think about how tired I was the previous day and how much I have to do today, I stare at his sweet baby face. I study his long, dark eyelashes, his full, red lips, and his tiny nose. I stroke his chubby cheeks and rub his fuzzy baby head. I examine all of his little fingers. I soak it all in.
It's moments like this that I cherish and know-as every mom knows-they are over all too soon.