Olympics be damned, I stayed up until after midnight to watch the women’s ice skating competitions before finally turning in. Exhausted, I lay awake before drifting off into sweet slumber.
At 2 a.m., I awoke and went to see where my dear hubby had collapsed from exhaustion and beckoned him to bed.
At 3:30 a.m., we had an uninvited visitor roam into our room and take a spot between us. The smallest of the bear cubs was surprisingly not in a snuggling kind of mood.
He thrashed and uncovered, twisted and turned. He removed my arm from around his warm little body and I retreated, defeated that my youngest child just wanted a warm bed.
And then, drunk from sleep, he grabbed my arm again. And enveloped himself within the curve of my body. We were nestled like those Russian dolls that I so loved when I was a little girl.
And for the briefest of moments, I thought back to when this child was completely enveloped by my body. Protected, fed, held so close for so long. I remembered how his little fingers and toes would delicately tickle my belly from the inside. I remember the yearning to meet this little person and discover who he was...
This morning, in the wee hours, I felt the warmth of his little body and his need to still be the baby, to still find welcoming arms on a cold night, after a bad dream or loneliness.
When we awoke this morning, my husband and I lovingly gazed our youngest treasure. He lay asleep, his dark long lashes curled on his slightly pink cherub cheeks. I thanked the heavens above for this most perfect gift...and my heart melted as it so often does when I look upon my three sons...
And I wondered, how did this perfect angel come upon us? How have we, in our infinite imperfections, been charged to raise this child, among his precious brothers? How can we become the people he believes us to be already?
And that is my goal for today; to be the person my almost three year old son thinks I already am...