1 May 2012

Loving the boy

The night I arrived home from Melbourne, the little boy woke up crying, just before midnight. Itay went in to calm him, but O vehemently stated "Not you. Not you, Aba!". He then decided he couldn't fall asleep without Mummy. I need you, Mum, he said.

After the third or fourth visit to his room, I curled up with him in his tiny toddler bed in the hope he would relax. He closed his eyes, fluttering them open every minute or so to reassure himself that I was there. Our faces were just centimetres apart, his baby breath touching my skin, his thumb in mouth, his warm little legs tangled in mine.

Love him. Even when I'm so tired, exhausted from travel, landingn back in to parenting and woken from a dead slumber. He is divine. My baby boy. He is turning three is less than two weeks. Seriously? Not a baby anymore, but he will always be my tiny baby boy.

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