I climbed in bed with my son last night. I had to navigate the nylon mesh rail that keeps him from falling out. He's in a "big boy bed" now. I'm not sure why we took him out of his crib already; he'd certainly still fit. Maybe we were in a hurry for him to grow or maybe we were sick of bending over to pick him up. Whatever the reason, he's now officially out of babyhood. So, I climbed from the bottom of the bed up to the top. He's sleeping on his big brother's Spiderman pillowcase. It was a little damp, but that's okay. Since surgery a few weeks ago I haven't been able to pick him up and hold him and I just wanted to put my arms around him for a little bit. I am terrified that by the time I'm allowed to lift him again, he'll be ready for college and won't be able to wrap his little skinny legs around my waist anymore.
He is absolutely the most spectacular person I have met in a long time. Perfect little eyelashes and this huge forehead housing magnificently large thoughts for a two-and-a-half-year-old. He's not even quiet when he sleeps; he whooshes a little. I just laid there and watched him. Touching him might have woken him and God knows we wouldn't want to do that! But, to watch him sleep made me feel so small. So finite. So human.
I am constantly amazed that my Father God thought me worthy enough to be in charge of these little people living in my house. I look at them and wonder how I ever grew old enough to have children, let alone intelligent ones with attitudes, opinions and language! It's a little overwhelming, scary and humbling to think that for the rest of my life (and theirs) we'll be together one way or another. I prayerfully ask that I not screw this up.