It seems that I can't wait for things to be over, even when they are great things. Vacation. Meals. Concerts. Afternoons. Thursdays. It doesn't make any sense, because I don't have anything better to look forward to. In the best of all worlds, I'll just be enjoying another Thursday once the next one passes, but I'll do it in an older body. Even though this has been the best year of my life, it takes effort for me to "stop and smell the flowers." This afternoon, however, I had no choice.
It was quiet and sunny. Drakeson and I were in his room playing with colorful toys when he asked me to rub on his gums. I took him into our soft green rocking chair, cradled his left cheek with the fingers of my right hand, and pressed my thumb onto his bottom tooth. He fell asleep as the grooves of my fingerprint traced back and forth over the tiny sharp ridges to the gentle rhythm of our rocking chair. We were entranced this way for about half an hour, during which time his second tooth emerged. I continued rocking him and rubbing his new tooth, enjoying the sweet smell, warmth, and relaxed weight of my beautiful sleeping baby.
It was a very long moment, and one worth remembering.
Moments before our moment
