There are moments holding my little boy that bring tears to my eyes and I want to last forever. I close my eyes and hold on tight, willing everything I am hearing and touching and sensing and feeling to imprint upon my memory permanently.
Tonight I shall be thankful for the opportunity to hold my beautiful perfect healthy son, every 2 hours or maybe even more often because I know there are plenty of people who would give anything to have this “problem”–including myself not all that long ago.
This failed last night but will continue to be my mantra until I get it right! Or until he sleeps through the night again, whichever comes first.
It is the simple moments that are the most profound: the dimpled smile, the joyous giggle, the quiet moments when he first falls asleep in my arms, when he pats my arm or grabs my finger I am certain that these memories will sustain me forever.
It is hard to believe that I have had Jackson for 8 years now. As we walked today I couldn’t help but reflect on all the ways we have both grown and changed throughout the years and how in the end, the one thing that has never changed is how much I love him. My heart still sings when I watch him run, and I feel proud every single time he listens to every word I say, sometimes even the ones I don’t say out loud. People we pass always comment on how well-behaved he is. Today I found him heeling (we call that “stay with”) when we were passing a group of people before I ever even asked him. We truly have an amazing connection. There are times I go to the door to call him to come inside and he is already there waiting. There are times that I feel sad and he is right there by my side before that first tear even falls. There are times that I decide to take him for a walk and he begins to celebrate before I even tell him or start to get ready. We know the way the other thinks and I know what we share is the stuff of legend. Think Jack London books and The Journey of Natty Gann. And I am blessed.
… are my favorite. We sleep in, well, actually, I should clarify. We attempt to sleep in. Like clockwork, Cheyenne and Dixie are ready to roll around 7, sometimes 7:30. We argue over whose turn it is to deal with them, take them out and try to keep sleeping. However. They have other ideas. Before we know it, we are grudgingly getting out of bed, making coffee and trying to wake up. Soon we are drinking coffee, chatting, surfing, and hanging out with the whole pack. Cheyenne and Dixie are in and out, in and out. Dixie is soon woofing for food. Jackson is bringing me a toy. But it is a nice reprieve from the week.