day twenty-two: the best part of my day

Dear Andrew,

Today was a long day for me. It started out pretty hectic, as I dropped you and your brother off at daycare in the rain, my arms full of food for your Thanksgiving feast. It got even more hectic at work, as my daily tasks rained down. And then, when the day was over at last and I was finally on my way home, I got stopped in traffic in the rain. I wanted to cry, because I wanted so very much to be at home, with you and your dad and your brother. It was just that kind of day.

As I sat in my car, at a standstill as the rain fell and the red reflection of car brakes trickled down the windows, all I thought about was how much I wanted to cuddle on the couch with you. You and I get a magical half hour together every night after I've put your brother to bed, and I wanted nothing more tonight than to spend that half hour snuggled close to you.

When I got home, you could tell that I wasn't myself (you're always so attentive to my moods), and you said, "Whassa matter, Mommy? Are you sad? It'll be okay, Mommy." You pulled me down to your level for a hug, and then you whispered in my ear, "Mommy, you're a special girl."

Later, after your bath, after I rocked and sang to your brother,  you curled up with me on the couch without even being asked. Your heart beat against my heart and the warm, heavy weight of you, so familiar to me now, immediately enveloped me in calm. I remembered holding you exactly this way when you were a baby. You were so much smaller then than you are now but you smell exactly the same: like the air after a storm, like maple syrup and clean sheets and every good smell rolled up into one. It is one of the very best smells.

 

When I think back on today I won't remember the rain. I won't remember how harried I felt this morning at your daycare, my arms full of food and boys. I won't remember the stress of work or the inconvenience of traffic. What I'll remember is the way your sweet little voice told me I was special, the way you let me hold you tonight as if you were still a baby, the way you let me just breathe you in. Buddy, you don't even realize it, but you completely made my day.

And by the way, thanks for laughing at my lame attempt to "steal your nose," even though I know you could tell it was really just my thumb.

I love you, buddy.

Mommy