Night Night, Sweet Boy (Age 2, almost 3!)

When Banner was an infant, I wrote this post about our good night rituals. Here we are almost 3 years later, and I still say those same things every single night as I leave his room: "Night night, sweet boy. I love you. Sweet dreams. See you in the morning." Sometimes, there's a variation of some kind to personalize it - an "Angel Baby" slipped in, or I love you "so much," etc. But, pretty much, same words every night. Now, Banner chimes in with his own "Sweet dreams!" or "I love you, too!" or "Goodnight, Mommy!" And my heart smiles.

But tonight, at almost three years old, I just wish I had a camera inside my eyes to capture the exact image I'm seeing and hearing, and I want to hold on to it and play it back in 20 years and remember being right there with him. Our faces so close; our hands embraced in each others', our breaths synchronized, his eyes glazing over and eyelids starting to get heavy, his paci bouncing up and down in his mouth, his hair damp from a bath and how fine and silky it feels in my fingers, how he feels so soft and tender.

Tonight, I laid in bed with him for a few minutes, then he started picking his nose... which he does a lot in bed right before falling asleep. It's a habit I'd love to break! But, I got up and offered him a Kleenex. He picked his "boogie," and after wiping it on the tissue, he asked if I'd get back in bed with him. Most nights this keeps him up longer, so I decided not to tonight, even though it broke my heart to disappoint him, and I so badly wanted to crawl right back in to lay beside him and just snuggle til he (or we) fell fast asleep. But, I chose not to tonight. It's always such a tough call - teaching him to soothe himself, letting him put himself to sleep, or savoring the moment and climbing right back in to his bed so we can share all those peaceful moments together. I want them so badly, but I don't want him to need me in order to fall asleep. So, instead, I just leaned over his bedrail with my arm on his chest. He put his hand on my arm, and we grasped each other, with our other hands holding each other as well. I closed my eyes so he wouldn't see the tears forming, and I was trying to etch this feeling, his image, this feeling in my heart forever. But, it occurred to me that I probably won't remember this exact moment. It made me so incredibly sad, because I know it's true. In 20 years, I won't remember this exact night, this exact instance - just like so many other nights. I hope when he's 5 years old, we're still doing this same thing, and at 10 and 15... but even if we are, I won't probably remember what he's like at 2. Oh, how I want to remember it.

He asked me to get back in bed with him. I said, "No, baby, I don't want to disturb you." He whispered, "You won't." And my heart squeezed a bit more, knowing he really wanted me to be with him. So, I settled for staying with him just like I was - us holding hands and embracing while he laid perfectly peacefully in his snug bed. I stayed until he was mostly asleep, and then I whispered, "Night, night, Angel Baby. I love you. Sweet dreams. See you in the morning." And, I came out to this blog immediately - to try my best to capture it immediately. Yet, tears stream down my face because I want more than that, and I want to let go of the fear that I won't remember. And, in the case that I don't, I am at least so incredibly grateful to have these moments and to have this very special boy.