It has occurred to me lately, on a nearly daily basis, that my little baby is growing up. He is by no means grown, but he is still much much more than he was only a year ago when we met. It's funny, because Justin and I were apparently both thinking about this yesterday.
Justin called, as usual, on his way home and I did not answer, also as usual. Sometimes I can't get to the phone fast enough, or last night it was still on silent from church, or I'm in the middle of changing a diaper or cleaning up from dinner or whatever the current mess situation. Last night was different though.
I'm not sure why or how, but I stopped rocking Asher before bed. It must have been when he stopped taking a night-time bottle. Ick, just reading that sentence makes me feel like a poor mother. We've always bragged on how easily he goes to bed at night. We just plop him in his bed, hand him his sleeping buddies, turn out the light and leave. So sometime in there the easy became the norm and I find myself missing all those opportunities to rock him and snuggle him and pray over him and be his mommy just a little bit longer. Last night before putting him to bed we sat in our chair and I caressed his curls and rubbed his back. I prayed for more moments like that.
Justin can't wait for him to get bigger. He wants to "do stuff" with him and teach him things and talk with him. I want him to grow up, too. I dream of my baby growing into a strong man of faith and action. A man with his own family and ministry. But if it's alright, I'd like him to be a baby for just a little while longer.
2 years ago