Always my baby

Henry climbed onto my lap Friday night, rosy cheeked and a little glassy eyed.

He lay there while I ran my fingers through his hair over and over.

Soon, I heard the soft little snores, saw the pouty mouth, relaxed and oh so kissable.

His body relaxed, leaning into me. Completely out at 8 0'clock.

I lay down and pulled him next to me, resting his head on my chest.

Staring at this little boy who steals my heart over and over again.

Wishing they all would fall asleep on me from time to time.

But grateful that one or two still do.

I soaked in the moment.

I stared at him, kissing his little head, smelling his sweet hair.

Then I asked for Jeff to take him upstairs so that he could sleep the night away.

But my heart went with him.

And I was left feeling a little empty where that curly head had been.

Wishing he could have slept with me all night.

And grateful that he still finds me comforting, a haven for when he his tired and worn out.

Does he know that he is a source of comfort for me too?

That when he cuddles up with me, I feel like I am actually good at being a mother?

Instead of mediocre like I fear?

That as long as they find peace and comfort in being with me, then I am succeeding.

And with that thought tightly wrapped around me, I can head off to bed as well.

With dreams of children dancing in my head.