I find myself lingering in the moments alone with my son. I hold him a little too long before I put him in bed at night and I kiss him too many times when he wakes up in the morning. If he is enraptured by a small shovel and some sand I will sit a watch him until he's finished, heedless of whatever responsibilities loom outside of that perfect moment. We spend so much time together, hours piled into days on end, interrupted only briefly by outsiders. Whenever he's within arms reach I run my fingers through his hair and brush it off his forehead.
I catch myself thinking 100 times a day how incredible he is - how beautiful his face, how charming his giggle, how engaging his personality. He has a facial expression for every nuance of every situation. When he's learning something new his body becomes very still but his eyes are laser focused. When he's content his face is completely relaxed and his eyes will drift about in casual observation. When he's up to something he will look at me sideways with his eyebrows raised. When he's happy his smile is so bright you could see it from outer space.
Our time together has always been precious, but it seems more urgent now that change is on the horizon. In a few short months he will have a sister and our alone time will inevitably diminish. I have decided not to mourn this change. I believe that the joy will outweigh the loss and I do not mourn. But I do allow myself the indulgence of savoring, of allowing each exquisite moment to last as long as possible.
Change comes soon enough and childhood is too terribly short, but today, he is small and he is mine.