This morning, while pretending to sleep a bit longer, since the kids were still quiet and not voicing their need for nourishment yet (they really are like a bunch of baby birds - open mouthed and chirping all the time), I heard Lyman come into my room and climb into Andy's side. My arm was sprawled across the bed at the time and I felt him reach for it and hold my hand for a little while. I smiled to myself for this little gesture. He used to come into my room and hold my hand every morning for a little while until I got out of bed. He stopped doing that (amongst other icky and overt physical displays of affection towards his embarrassing mother) about a year ago. I was a bit saddened because it meant he was growing out of the "When I grow up, I want to marry Mom" stage of his life and moving on to "Sheesh, Mom, did you have to kiss me in front of my friends?" stage.
I was going to post more pictures of our Colorado trip today for Thankful Thursday. Maybe tomorrow. My little 4 minutes of hand holding with my almost 7 year old boy is way more important to document. I am thankful for my 4 minutes.
15 years ago
2 Comments:
My three year old gave me one of those amazing hugs yesterday that he is now too grumpy to give. Oh, it make my blood melt.
I will be heartbroken when Emmett stops snuggling. He's not a very snuggly little man to begin with, because he's too BUSY to stop squirming. But his open-mouthed baby kisses and little hugs and resting his head on my chest when he has his middle-of-the-night milkfest are my favorite things in the whole world, and I never want them to leave. Ever. Even if that means getting drooled on by my 14 year old son. Gross.
Post a Comment