The cradle

I was going to delete all of my past posts-start fresh. But you know what? They aren’t half bad. So, they will stay.

The other evening the small human was melting. It was a long day and despite being almost 6, the witching hour is still very much in effect in our house. He was upset about something (truly can’t remember it now). When he gets upset, my extinct is to pull him up on my lap, have him rest his head on my chest and rock. He normally doesn’t oblige. And frankly, he doesn’t really fit. His legs, hang off. His feet dangle. His head doesn’t naturally fit on my chest like it use to. But this time, it all seemed to work and while he was in my lap we were able to have a wonderful talk. We did this for what seemed like eternity. Rocking, talking, giggling. I felt important. I felt successful. I felt joy.

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