Tiny Moment

It really is too early. The sun is not up yet. The birds are not even awake. After forcing myself out of bed and into the shower, struggling each step of the way, I am finally ready to begin. I may have already walked around a while and gone through the motions of what little it takes to get a man dressed in the morning, but only now am I slowly waking up. The only sound I can hear is the baby monitor echoing the music from my son’s sound machine throughout the living room. The same lullaby on repeat at a soft volume interrupted only occasionally by a cough or a heavy sigh and even sometimes, the tiniest and cutest of snores.

I put my shoes on and fill my pockets with the days supplies; wallet, keys, phone, note to myself to email that guy later today. Check.

My son has been growing so much lately. They say time flies by and before you know it they are grown up and have children of their own. It is completely true. They really do grow up fast, but in the morning, I still get to enjoy him as a little one in a few small ways. He still drinks milk for breakfast with me and so I make him a cup and I pick up some toys left out from before.

Then I hear it. The small squeak of his crib in the monitor as he starts shuffling himself awake. He hears me moving around in our tiny apartment. He can hear when I turn the water on for my shower and the fridge door opening when I reach for the milk. All of these noises must be a comfort to him since he wakes up so quietly. He will coo to himself quietly and wiggle in his bed until I come in to get him.

This part has become my favorite of our morning routine in the last several months. As I slowly open the door and let the light from the other room peek into his, I see only his short silhouette sitting up in the corner. He has his blanket wrapped all around himself. He gets that from his mother. He looks up at me and smiles at me with eyes not quite opened. I whisper to him “good morning”. He sighs heavily with a grin still fixed between those two chipmunk cheeks.

I lean over the railing and scoop him up under his arms and his blanket comes along. He leans back from my chest to double check that it’s me. He smiles once more but then the smile goes flat and I think we may have a noisy morning ahead of us. As his smile fades, his head droops and our foreheads softly meet. He sighs heavily again and turns his head to rest it on my shoulder. He is tired but not sleeping. Awake but not eager to leave my arms. His music plays on and the hall light is still dim all around us.

He just breathes. I rub his back. We sway slowly side to side as the lullaby serenades us repetitively. He snuggles into me pulling my shoulder closer to himself. I squeeze him gently as not to disrupt this rare minute of pure cuddling. For several minutes we stand there, him in my arms feeling safe and resting and me not too sure what is happening or why. Thought start racing in my head; “we are going to be late”, “I hope he isn’t sick”, “don’t stop rubbing his back or else he’ll start moving again”. And then the moment sinks in and I am at peace. It doesn’t matter if we are a few minutes late. Enjoy him. Love him. Make sure he feels like there is nothing else in the world that matters, and in this one second in time, nothing else does. I stop rocking him and hold my hand still on the middle of his back and feel his little heartbeat. The same heartbeat that two years ago changed my world forever now is what fills my heart with love and peace.

I softly squeeze him again and he sits up, smiles at me, and rests his forehead on mine. Still smiling at one another, we stand there for a moment more before he turns his cheek and presses it to my lips. I kiss him as he takes another big breath and settles back again into my arms.

I lay him down and change him. We walk to the kitchen and he drinks his milk. We get his bag ready together and head out to the car. As I carry him to the car he rests his head on my shoulder once more and laughs, sits up again and smiles revealing all eight or so teeth.

Today was much like every other day. We did all the same things we normally do. Tomorrow will be another. But today I was ten minutes late for work and I do not at all feel sorry about that.