I've been feeling very sentimental as of late. Suddenly in a panic, I'm realizing how quickly Levi's baby hood is passing us by.
This leads Herb and I to gaze at him when he sleeps for several minutes each night, just before we turn in. We marvel at the different positions he finds comfortable. Face down, folded in half. Stretched out on his back, arms behind his head. Fetal position. We look at each other and say things like, "How did we get the cutest baby in the world?"
Sometimes this gazing and hushed adoration wakes Levi up as we are exiting his room (our house is over 100 years old, it's the floor's fault). I'm not at all ashamed to say that lately, when he cries, I go ahead and pick him up.
During nap times and actual bed time, I'm all about crying it out (which is usually under 5 minutes, if anything).
But those 10 or 11 pm wake ups are perfect cuddling time.
Sometimes I just give him a quick hug and lay him back down before he drifts off to the land of nod.
Sometimes I rock him and sing him back to sleep. Sometimes I pray over him. Sometimes I tell him sweet stories of how badly I wanted him, and how he is the answer to my prayers. Other times, like tonight, I do all four.
I know I am "breaking the rules," but I can't help it. I love this kid so much and I just want to treasure every single moment he still fits in my arms and puts his head on my shoulder.