A cold has been ripping through our house over the last week. Jon brought it home and then handed it off to Harry, and then one of my boys gave it to me. Then Jon promptly left for a four day trip, leaving sick Mama and Harry behind.
When Harry is sick, it doesn’t really slow him down much, it just makes him a little more cuddly and clingy than normal. So bedtime takes a little longer as we draw out the bath and the lotion and the books and the singing and the back rubs. But the other night, after a very rough after-bath time (let’s just say it’s the hardest thing in the world to look at your baby who is crying his little heart out and asking to sleep in Mama’s bed and say no), Harry requested that I get in his crib with him. I couldn’t say no to another request that night, so I climbed in and laid down next to my boy.
The second I cuddled up next to him, he grabbed my hand and held on to it with all the strength he possessed, sleepy as he was. We laid there, foreheads touching, holding hands, for a long time, talking about our day, about his Papa, singing songs, and just listening to each other breath. Harry’s grip never wavered, worried that I would get up and leave his tiny crib for my own queen size bed.
One day he won’t sleep in that crib anymore. One day he won’t need his mom to lay next to him while he falls asleep. One day he won’t want to hold my hand. But today, while he still does, I’ll put aside any chore, any email, any book to lay next to my sweet boy, holding hands, while he drifts off to sleep.