Most days, I know what I want to blog about well before I make it to the computer. This week, not so much. I have a very big post in mind, but I’m not quite ready to write it yet, and besides, after I spent twenty minutes on the Nordic Track and made it downstairs at 6:02 a.m. to turn on the computer, Michael started crying and I had to go back upstairs. And now I have fifteen minutes till the Great Tuesday Madness begins. Do I share a picture of Julianna’s homework? The “money shot” I got of Nicholas jumping in the leaves the other day? Do I try to capture a video of Michael’s newest adorable habit? Or do I stick a toe in the controversial waters and share some enlightening definitions I encountered through a recent class at church?
Alex comes in to say goodbye to me as I’m finishing morning ablutions, a whirlwind of too-long hair and cracked teeth and second-grade joy, and suddenly I know. Because last night, somehow–two of Daddy’s lessons canceled, the miracle of three younger siblings in bed and content before 8p.m.–the stars aligned and I got to have some dedicated time with my firstborn. After we read a chapter of The Horse and His Boy, we snuggled down together for a minute or two on my bed. He’s all arms and legs these days; I only have about six inches on him. Wonderful skin, although he always thinks I’m going to tickle him when I pull him close. But he knows he can trust me not to tickle if I tell him I’m not going to tickle. So he snuggled close beneath my chin, our legs all wrapped up in each other, and I thought, It can’t be long now before this is no longer okay. “I hope you don’t get too old for this too soon,” I whispered into his temple. “Because I love it.”
A second or two, and an answering whisper. “I do, too.”
Man, I love that boy.