…Few and far in between.
As children grow their independence grows more and more. My once newborn who was so floppy and small and could only lay in my arms eat, sleep, cry, and soil his diaper is now a seven year old boy who can tie his shoes, get his own food, and leave me for school six hours a day. Sure, he still needs me for big things and still needs guidance, but how often do I get to gather him in my arms and just stare and smile at him until my cheeks hurt like I used to do when he was an infant. How often do I get to rub his little back and sing to him when I put him to bed? These days putting him to bed includes reading silly books about school principals who wear a cape and only underpants ready to save the day.
But last night, for some reason my little man climbed on my lap and wrapped his arms around me, then asked me what that song was I used to sing to him. I’m not sure what was running through his little mind, but I told him it was Fireflies by Faith Hill. It was our lullaby. I sang it to him every night since he’s was born until he was about three or four. It was always the perfect song for us. An anthem of a young girl pretending she was a princess and travelled around the world, looking for adventure. A girl who was taught to dream. It was the life I had before my son and I always sang it to him as if I were passing on my gift of dreaming to him in the form of a lullaby.
He sang it with me last night so unlike any other time I sang it to him, whispering the soft words into the darkness as he’d fall asleep. I couldn’t help but think the time had stopped for those few minutes. We were in a bubble of no time, nothing happening all around. For that moment I was still in the hospital holding him in a fresh blanket less than twenty-four hours old. His big, round eyes staring into mine as I sang to him. He knew me, knew my voice, knew my comfort…I was his mother.
Sure, today we have many things that bond us together still. We play games together, read together, go on hiking adventures or day trip journeys and they are wonderful times that I’ll never forget, but the baby days are gone. We’ve graduated to a new era, but sometimes, like last night I get one of those moments back and he’s a little baby again. Those are the moments few and far in between when I’ll look back and remember… yep, he’s still my baby.