Tonight we fought a tough battle, you and I. Earlier we had a Big Boy Party for you where everyone applauded while you threw away all of your Baby Bottles. We chanted loudly about your newly achieved Big-Boy-status. You grinned and drank Sprite, and thought we were all crazy.
And then came bed time. At first you were confused that Dad and I were tucking you into bed, doing our nightly ritual, while excluding that most-important step: giving you your lovely bottle full of your lovely water. Then you got sad. Very sad.
And then you got mad. Very, very mad.
After thirty minutes of sweetly putting you back into your cowboy bed and explaining why your wonderful bottles were suddenly unavailable to you, you gave up on Daddy called my name.
"Momma..." you've always known that I was the softie.
I ended up snuggled in your teeny-weeny twin sized bed, with my tires fingers working their way through your baby-soft hair. I sang you your favorite song, "Beautiful Boy" (thank you John Lennon).
This song is special for us, me and you. I have been singing this song to you since I found out that the tiny squirming being inside me was a boy. It got us through ear infections, long car rides, sleepless nights, and now it helped us through your first night as a true Big Boy.
I don't know how much longer you will allow me to play in your tiny curls while croaking to you our song, but
Thank you for tonight.
For reminding how magical the small moments of togetherness truly are. Oh, how I love you my little Porter Pot.
Love,
Mommy
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2 comments:
What a cute little story. That photo is adorable.
Haha you are too funny. He will appreciate this some day :)
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