Sawyer's Slumber


In a few short days, my baby-son will turn two…and I feel as though I will no longer have any babies—just big boys.Through my youngest man’s recent moments of defiance and beautiful independence, I have felt the inevitable passing of time squeeze my heart in uncomfortable joy and love. Shocks waves of longing for his tiny weight in my now womb-less belly have made me so thankful and so sad for what was and is and will be with my boys.

Then, just now, time stood still as I lay next to my second-born as he fell asleep, and I was filled with gratitude (not sadness) that my boys are growing up.Fiercely four-years-old, Sawyer lives intensely in every direction, and I follow him around through each day with mixtures of exhaustion and amusement and pride and a fair dose of bewilderment.I often rush him to bed in order to have a few moments of peace, and he falls instantly to sleep as he has used up every iota of energy his compact little body can muster.But tonight, with husband and oldest son off to the movies and almost-two-year-old boy sound asleep in the other room, I just snuggled with my middle guy and felt like a first time mama all over again.

When did I stop watching his every movement with awe?When did I stop noticing his impossibly long eyelashes open and close over sparkling eyes, each blink longer than the last as he succumbs to sleep?I remember his first months as I held him for hours, marveling over his every breath, coo and smell.Now, he smells more like a puppy with sweat and sweets and dirt and reminders that we missed bath-time again, and yet as I breath in his all-boy smell I think of the adventures we had together today and wish I could bottle this smell up.His hands are sticky as he unconsciously reaches over and strokes my hair and face.Toes tickle my knee caps as he snuggles closer, and I can’t believe that he’s long enough to take this much of the bed up, yet so small that my little hand still spans the width of his whole back that is now rising and falling deeply and steadily.He really has always been incredibly good at sleeping.

Thank you, Lord, for the reminder to just breathe in the moments in front of me.Thank you for the picture of parenthood that allows to me to see flashes of how you see me.May this year be a year of me snuggling into your presence and letting your warmth lull me into a place of rest.