Thursday, February 10, 2005

I think Emma and I have a small pseudo-cold. We're both sniffly, but not enough to really qualify as "sick." It may be dry air more than anything. She was restless last night, and woke up at about 11:00 pm crying. She didn't want to go back to sleep by herself, she just kept reaching her arms out to me and crying if I left the room.

I picked her up and sat with her a while. She has a comfy La-Z-Boy rocker in her room, so we sat there, wrapped up together in her fleece blanket, for about an hour. I could have put her back down sooner, but I just didn't want to. It was amazing. We were rocking ever so gently, listening to her sleepy-time CD (Bronn Journey) and looking at each other in the dim light from her clock. She was drowsy, but every once in a while she'd open her eyes, stare at me for a few seconds with that ancient knowing look, then smile at me behind her pacifier and close her eyes again. She seemed so happy and secure. She trusts me, she knows me. I will take care of her. Words cannot describe how much I love this little person.

It was a moment out of time, a perfect bubble of contentment.


Anonymous said...

sweet. -sage

Arson said...

It's the moments that seem altoghether much too ordinary that stick with us forever. I hope I remember those moments when my kids are all grown up. So precious.

CrazyFiberLady said...

how very sweet. I love moments like that with my little ones. I sat and cuddled one back to sleep last week and while I could have returned her to her crib, I was revelling in the feeling of her small body cuddled to mine, the fit of her head below my chin, the flow of her breathing and just the warmth of my baby. Yes, these are the times to remember.