There are moments in your life you know you will cherish forever even when that moment is occurring. Those are so special, aren't they? One of mine is the night before I got married. I don't need a picture to recall that experience, it is perfectly clear in my memory...the clear and starry sky, the calm before the storm (literally and figuratively), the pier stretching out into the ocean...ah, it's like I'm there again and for just a moment in time all is perfect.
I had another perfect night only this time with another boy, as in The Boy. Do you know that famous painting by Gustav Klimt of a woman and child embracing, sleeping side by side? Well, I have always loved that painting. It's hung in my many apartments--a replica that is--long before I had a child. The other night The Boy could not fall asleep and we had our own Klimt moment in time.
He was tired (it's a given I was) and it was close to midnight. His ouchie teething made him extremely alert. After many failed attempts to calm and put him to sleep I laid down with him, stroked his hair (how he has so much already I have no clue) and held his head close to my heart. I massaged his little hands, his muscly arms, his big Buddha belly. I kissed his perfectly smooth forehead and rubbed his little chunky feet. As a result, he sunk right into my side and fell asleep. He even giggled about something which is how he laughed for the first time at just a couple of months old--asleep. It must have been so soothing to go back to hearing my heartbeat again. He spent all those months growing in me and being lulled by my goofy heartbeat from my deformed heart (it beats lub swoosh instead of lub dub). We were just like the Klimt painting (only I had a top on). A moment of bliss, mama and baby. I thanked the heavens above for him even more than normal and felt so profoundly lucky to have such a gift in my life.
Some day he'll be 15 and the words "Mom" and "cuddle" will have nothing to do with each other. That's when I'll have to resort back to cuddling with his father I imagine. And the following night he clubbed me in the eye with a plastic key toy so hard that it's still bruised. We may be closer to 15 than I realize. But no matter what I will forever have our Klimt night to hold onto. Pure bliss.
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