Mac is in his crib, singing at the top of his lungs. I'm working in the office, a light, warm wind blowing through the room. It's nearly 90 degrees outside but the breeze is making our house bearable.
This morning, Mac must have sat on my lap 10 times. He walks up with a book or toy and sits right down, unaware that my space isn't his space, too. Today, as his full weight fell upon me, my lap getting smaller as the baby gets bigger, it hit me that, someday, he won't think of my lap as an extension of himself. He won't sit on it as the rightful owner, unaware that my body wasn't only created for his use.
The baby is kicking now, as I type away. Mac's singing, this sweet kicking, these moments - I hope I don't forget them. I hope I never forget the feeling of Mac's weight upon me. I hope I never forget the way he sings, with so much confidence and certainty, "Now I said my A-B-SONG!"
Last week I decided that two is my favorite age, which I also said at 6 months and 12 months and probably not 18. :) When I hold another newborn later this year, will I say it's my favorite, too?
There's this beauty in motherhood that each season can feel like the very best one, which fills me with joy and also anxiety - why does it have to go so quickly? Motherhood is constantly knowing you're going to miss it when it's gone, paired with an inability to do anything about it. It can almost make you crazy.
If a genie really did grant me one wish, it would be to have a little bottle where I could go back in time and see Mac at various ages whenever I wished. A little sip of him as a newborn. A hit of him at 12 months. Moments, here and there, to taste a little bit of the past, while staying in the present, still moving forward.
Someday he might be taller than me (though I'm pretty tall!). With arm hair and facial hair and a manly voice. Someday he won't sit on my lap or lay his head on my shoulder when I sing to him at night. Someday he won't say, "One more squeeze?" with the biggest smile at bedtime, already knowing one more hug is coming his way. It brings tears to my eyes just to type these words, to know these days are not forever.
I know it's all about sinking into the present and enjoying each moment. I know it's about being grateful for each day that we get. I know all that. But today, I feel especially nostalgic for the sweet moment we're in, just the three of us Saxons with one - whom we've yearned for so deeply - on the way in 16 weeks.
So here's to today, for what it is and all that we have.