Saturday, August 15, 2015

Saturday mornings

It's Saturday morning and you're laying right next to me. Your black hair is spilling all over my arm and you're still sucking your thumb. Your eye lashes still curl at the ends just like when I first met you. I lean into your cheek, close to your neck and breathe in deeply.    

I just want to smell you. Every Momma knows the smell of her baby. You came home smelling this way, and I will never forget how your skin smells as long as I live. So sweet, and soft with a hint of little boy. And I swear some days when you're not here, I walk by your room and the scent overwhelms me. It's seeps into the mattress, layers the walls. It whispers you. It pulls at my heart with a magnet force. And I wonder how long I'll have to smell this preciousness? How long will I be privy to snuggle up to you on Saturday mornings? How long will you wrap your legs across me, and just be? 

How many years can I buy of you and me? 

I'd lie, cheat and steal for them. I promise I would. 

You're 4 & 1/2. In my mind there's still so much little boy to go around. God, I sure hope I'm right. 

In the meantime, I will relish in our time together. Just us. When I'm stressed and feel like being alone, I will take a swift breath in over the crown of your head and remember:

~these days are the greatest I'll be given.
~these days are short.
~these days matter the most.