We don't get enough of this. You and I snuggled together in a quiet house, your head on my chest and your hand in mine. The sound of my heart beating and your skin on my skin reminding us that we, you and I, are the same; created for each other.
I'm sorry if I seem so busy, so caught up in the daily to-dos of life. Paying bills, buying groceries, doing laundry, a thousand other projects screaming to be completed, providing and planning for our future. I'm sorry if I don't take the time to truly see you.
I promise from now on I will drop everything I'm doing when you ask me to play. I will spend a few extra minutes by your bedside each night. I will get out from behind the camera and make memories rather than mementos. I will tuck each smile you give me into my heart. I will not take for granted those chubby cheeks and plump hands or the way you look into my eyes when you say "Mama." For too soon you will have the lean look of a child then the sharp angles of an adolescent. Soon your eyes will be occupied, industriously taking in the world. The next time I hold you in my arms I will breath deeply that scent that is part me, part your father and 100 percent you. Because every moment you change, you become less my baby and never again will you be the you that you are right now.
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