This morning. 6 a.m.
I don’t open my eyes. What Buddy?
Can I snuggle with you?
My eyes are still closed as I lift up the warm sheets. Of course you can, I love when you snuggle me.
He climbs in, and wiggles up against me. He squirms and lifts the blankets and kicks around. E, settle down okay? Do you want to go downstairs and watch TV?
No, I just want to snuggle you.
I wrap my arms around him and push my nose into his hair, smelling the essence of him. It’s such a wonderful smell, isn’t it? The smell of your child. I would know it anywhere.
We are holding hands. The wheels in my head are turning with all of the things I need to do. I have things to do. I need to get up and do them. Are you sure you don’t want to watch some TV? Mommy has to work.
No, I just want to snuggle.
Emails to check. Laundry to start. Twitter parties. Posts to write. Bills to pay. My breathing is getting quicker as I feel the anxiety of what needs to get done. At the same time, I notice that Ethan’s breathing is slowing. His body is twitching as he falls asleep.
And I decide to stay with him. Holding him. He rarely lets me snuggle him anymore, rarely lets me just hold him. I feel my breathing slow and sync with his. We are still holding hands. I snuggle into him, and just breathe.