Jason started his new job on Monday and it's been an adjustment for all three of us to figure out a new morning routine. While waiting for his start date, Jason was a stay at home dad for about a month. It was wonderful to have him realize that just because you stay at home all day doesn't mean it's a cakewalk. He has a new appreciation of just how difficult it can be to get everything done while watching a child.
But by staying at home he and Dayne were able to "sleep in" on a daily basis. Dayne would start babbling around 7 AM and Jason would retrieve him around 7:30. With Jason's new job however, he & I both need to be up early. He's getting up around 5 and I'm getting up soon thereafter so I can get myself ready before waking Dayne up to get him ready to go to his grandparent's house for the day.
Monday morning was easier because Jason didn't have to be there until 8. Tuesday morning I had to go in and wake Dayne which gave me a glimpse to my future teenage boy. He was dead to the world and when I rubbed his back and said his name he whined and burrowed further into his mattress. This morning he beat us to the punch, waking us both up with cries around 5 AM.
I rolled out of bed, made my way upstairs and picked him up from his crib. I was still rubbing sleep out of my eyes and wishing I could just curl back up in bed for another hour. As soon as Dayne hit my chest he grabbed my hair, his safety blanket, sucked his thumb and snuggled in. I sat down in the glider and felt him fall back asleep, safe in moms arms.
I sat there for a while just absorbing the moment, treasuring the weight in my arms, the steady breaths escaping from his nose. I could be sleeping but this is one moment out of my lifetime that I will never forget. It was nothing "momentous" or "milestone". It's not something I'll pull the camera out to record or write down in his baby book. Instead, it will be one of those moments I pull out from time to time in my memory bank, a time where my son was still small enough to snuggle in my lap, still needed his mommy to feel safe, still wanting the feel of my hair in his balled up fist to reassure him that I was close.
I rocked and rocked, not wanting the moment to end, wanting to stay there with him until the sun finally peeked over the horizon and he woke up because he wanted to wake up.
He'll be nine months old tomorrow. Time is rushing by me in a blur. It seems like yesterday I held him for the first time, marveling at every feature. Today he's a speed crawler, cruising the furniture and throwing tantrums when he doesn't get his way. One day he'll walk, then talk, then run. One day I'll send him to school for the first time, one day he'll come home and shyly tell me about a girl he likes. One day he'll graduate high school and then be off in the world on his own, making his own path, living his own dreams. One day.
But today, this morning, that moment - he was my little boy, my baby, my love.