Most of the time Jack is running around exploring life and does not hold still much. But every so often you can capture him like this:
He likes to come in early early in the morning and crawl in our bed. Sometimes he will hold my hand while he is sleeping. Sometimes he snuggles with Gary, sometimes with me. I try so hard in the moment to remember what his soft, pudgy skin feels like and what his breathing sounds like and the lisp in his voice because I know tomorrow he will be a big, hairy, stinky boy who won't let me snuggle in his neck. That makes me sad. But also curious, because I think he will be a funny teenager. I wonder if other mothers have these moments.
It also makes me think of the children in Syria right now. And then sometimes I stop thinking about it because I can't stand the pain of it anymore. That makes me cowardly, I suppose, but sometimes it's too much to bear thinking about it when there is nothing I can do to change it. I am grateful for the peace in my home.
P.S. Emma is in the next room practicing her heart out singing, "Maybe"from Annie. She has a big audition tomorrow at school and is nervous as anything. Wish her luck!