Midnight Thoughts.

It’s 12:30 on a weeknight, and you’re asleep in my bed. You lay between your dad and I, switching between the two of us each time you slightly wake and cuddle closer. I should sleep, but I can’t help but stare in awe at the wonder that is you, my sweet boy. I give you soft kisses on your cheek, your forehead, your hands, your eyes. I wonder if I will ever be able to aptly express how great my love for you is. I whisper it to you, though, and hope it sinks in through osmosis.

As we lay here, I put my hand in yours, and you grab onto me in your sleep. Most nights you’ll start to wake up around this witching hour, and need more of my warmth to settle you back down into your deep slumber. I soak up every second of those cuddles with you, soaking up every second of you loving your mama with everything you have. I know someday you won’t reach for me over everyone else, that you won’t grab onto me for comfort in your sleep. I’ll lay here just a little longer, with your hand in mine, our faces beside each other, and revel in your perfectness.

How you are almost one year old, I don’t know. This year has been slow and fast all at the same time, and I wish so many times that we could just stop time and stand still, and that you could just stay little.

As I’ve said before, I am enjoying every sweet second of you being little, my miracle child. I could live like this forever, cuddled up next to my baby boy.

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