This week Jon moved Layla into the "big girl bed" in her room for a nap. She liked it so much she's been there ever since. She was ready. Mommy wasn't. I worried in bed most of the night and I cried all the way to work.
God new I needed a little moment to catch myself back in control of my mommyhood. So last night Layla decided all on her own to crawl on to my lap while I was rocking in my chair and asked me to "sking her" after much baby sign language and frustration and repeating the word "sking" I decided she wanted me to sing to her.
So I did.
For 45 minutes I rocked and sung. I hummed and ran my fingers through the last of her baby fine hair by her face. I held her to me while her face pushed itself against by breast where she could hear my heart and her little hand wandered into my shirt to touch my skin and I watched her fade.
Her worries melted, her posture loosened and eventually she drifted off to slip right there on my chest.
And then I knew...she'd always be my baby... no matter how big her bed gets.
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1 comment:
you got that absolutely right.
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