After putting the Monkey down for a nap on Sunday, I washed what felt like a million pieces of tupperware, sippy cups, and bottles before collapsing onto the couch and falling asleep. The neighborhood had a quiet, idyllic feeling — everything was still and warm. It was perfect napping weather.
Maybe half an hour later, I heard Hubbs go into the nursery. The Monkey was obviously awake. Yet, my eyelids drooped closed again. A minute or so later, footsteps stopped a few feet away from me. Someone giggled.
“Who’s that?” whispered Hubbs. I turned to look at them, opening one eye. The Monkey practically jumped out of Hubbs’ arms: His feet kicked off Hubbs’ chest, his arms were extended, and he was smiling like mad:
“Hi Baby,” I murmured, catching him mid-swan dive and bringing him close for a snuggle. He happily flopped next to me on the couch, and laid down using my arm as a pillow. He pointed at the ceiling, and babbled. He pointed at Hubbs and said “dada” but when the Hubbs reached out for him, the Monkey buried his face in my T-shirt; then he looked up, batted his eyes at the Hubbs, and planted a kiss on my cheek.
The kid knows how to work it.
We lay there for probably 10 minutes, as we both fully woke up. The Monkey took turns laying next to me, giving me kisses and hugs, and using me as his personal jungle gym. But what really made that time special, was how he’d consistently look into my eyes, whisper “Momma” and give me some kind of hug/kiss before laying his head against my shoulder and sighing.
It melted my heart, and I stored it away in my memory for times when I’m feeling emotionally drained, physically tired, and downtrodden. At those times, I can remember those 10 minutes and feel refreshed, recharged, and unconditionally loved.
It reminded me that every day with this tiny person is special. That every day is the chance to tell him he’s loved. That every day is blessed — even if we sometimes lose sight of it.