I’ve featured so many beautiful moments here on Small Moments Mondays. (I still can’t believe that this week’s small moment brings the total to eleven!)
These special moments never fail to make me melt and I often feel as though I am peeking in a window–a window to a beautiful and private moment.
This week, however, I feel as though I am in the room. So much about this magical moment feels familiar.
I am thrilled to share with you a story about the love between my amazing friend, Katie, and her precious little boy, Eddie. Katie has carefully captured a tender, priceless moment and she is generously sharing it with us.
And that’s how Katie is…generous. She is also funny despite herself, caring, supportive, intelligent, and strong. I am blessed to know her and to call her my friend.
Thank you, Katie…for your post and for your friendship.
A Rockin’ Time — by Katie
When Nichole asked me to be a part of her Small Moments Mondays series, I was totally honored! I think this is such a great idea because way too often we blog about the big events or the big feelings and emotions, but we don’t take time to really look at the little things—the small moments that actually are the ones making up our lives.
So I immediately began to brainstorm. But of course it’s hard to just think up a small moment because we so easily gloss over them—but because of this, I had to become much more aware of what is going on minute by minute wondering if each little smile or sigh was what I wanted to do my post about.
Last night I realized what my Small Moment is. It happens every day and is getting to be so routine, it was totally easy to overlook, even though it’s probably the most important part of my day: Rocking Eddie before bed.
Our routine is as old as he is. Eddie and I have logged a LOT of time in this chair:
The chair belonged to my parents and it’s the same chair they rocked me and both of my brothers in when we were babies. It matched Eddie’s nursery, so I brought it in. I had NO idea that I would spend as much time in it as my mom claimed to spend when I was small.
Before Eddie was born, I used to sit in that chair and read the books I already had for him out loud so he could hear them inside the womb. I wanted him to be familiar with reading. I dreamed of how wonderful it would be to have a small, soft little bundle of baby to snuggle in this chair.
Then Eddie arrived. And yes, we spent LOTS of time in that chair. Usually crying. Both of us.
You see, Eddie was colicky. As colicky as can be for almost a full three months. That chair became my jail. There was nothing that would calm him, so I did what I knew, I rocked. Friends would be over and as soon as Eddie started crying, I would excuse myself and rock in that chair. Sometimes for hours at a time. He would be inconsolable and I would just sob. I could hear my friends out in the living room, my husband trying to entertain them, and I would continue rocking.
But it’s different now. Each night by 8pm, I gather him up from his toys, we find his pipey, and we head to his nursery. And he knows. He waves to daddy as we pass him on the couch.
As we enter his room, the lights are out, but the soft glow of the nightlight leads us to the rocker. I always have my bathrobe on so that when I sit down, he gathers up the fleece belt and rubs it on his nose.
And we start to rock. I quietly begin singing, “You Are My Sunshine” just loud enough that he can hear it over the low hum of the humidifier. I bury my nose in his curly blond hair and close my eyes for a second.
He used to fit in my arms when we did this. Now he sits on my lap all turned in toward me, face buried in my robe. He lets out a little sigh, I sing, “Amazing Grace.”
He is quiet. I am quiet. We silently rock. Not because I couldn’t put him in bed yet. I could. But because this is the quietest part of my day. Not just because of lack of sound, but because of lack of activity. I am most still when I am rocking Eddie.
This is the moment of my day that I am just Momma.
I stroke his curls; I kiss his cheeks; I stop rocking. I pause one second longer knowing that outside the nursery door is a living room to be picked up, twitter friends, blogging to do, the world. I want to hold Eddie one second longer because tomorrow he will be a little bit older—a little bit closer to not wanting those bedtime cuddles.
As I lay him down in his crib, I know I have to quietly sneak out, but again I wait. I kiss my fingers and touch his face and promise he will always be my baby.
Please be sure to stop over and say hello to Katie on her blog, Sluiter Nation. Her writing is honest, open, and it captures just how much she loves her family and how appreciative she is of the love that surrounds her.
Once you have read these, I’m certain that you’ll be as in love with Katie as I am and you will feel all cozy over there.