Tonight I laid down with my son, despite his protests claiming he wanted to go sleep with anyone but me, despite his saying that he didn't want me for a mommy, despite his endless questioning of why he we have to sleep in the night time, and despite him knocking me on the cheek bone as he tried to get away.
Exhausted, I held him, and he soon quieted. He told me he was sorry and kissed my owie. He told me he loved me. And not long after, he was asleep in my arms.
I had a million things I needed to do. I had a million other things I wanted to do. My book lay open on the side table, calling for me to reach over and continue on the adventure.
But I didn't answer.
I was comfortable. I felt peaceful. The ever-present music formed a soft lullaby around me and my baby as I closed my eyes and listened to his steady breathing.
Two minutes passed,
...five minutes passed,
...ten minues passed.
...and just before the fifteenth minute, the world came back into focus. The time on the clock seemed brighter than usual, the list of responsibilities growing with remembered promises. It was now, or never.
With a renewed sense of energy and purpose, I slid my arm out from underneath him and kissed his soft cheek. I pulled the blanket tight around him, and then got up to finish my to-do list for the day.