Saturday, November 15, 2008

Silas falls asleep curled in to me, face buried in his little blanket.  When he's fighting sleep, he rubs his little eyes into my shoulder blade, grunting and kicking.  When he's not quite ready for bed, my shoulder is his perch, as he pokes his little head up and around to see the world behind him.  But when he finally gives in to sleep, he relaxes his little head, and turns his face toward mine.  In the still hours tonight, I felt the weight of his body on my chest, listened to his even breaths, and thought of how quickly this will end.  Babies turn toward their mothers, children turn away from them.  My time holding Asher now is peppered with requests of "Down, down."  As often as not, he asks to be held just so that he can see what I see on the counter, or reach some elusive toy or food.  I have become a home base of sorts.  He still seeks comfort and reassurance from me, but most of his day is spent away from my lap, as it should be.  But Silas is a baby.  He is still learning his mother, still turned in, still aware of me first and most.  With him I know what I didn't know with Asher - how quickly it will end.  And tonight I'm glad he still falls asleep on my chest.

1 comment:

Kendra said...

Wow. That's all I can think of to Great post.