The longer I let the thoughts of these posts slip past, the more panic I feel that the moments will be lost and gone forgotten.
At two, I still rock and sing to him in a chair next to his crib at bed time. The only difference is that now he can ask for it. "(s)ing (s)ong"... Oh, and he's like a huge sack of potatoes awkward in my arms.
Rock-a-bye Ryker.
In mommy's arms.
Daddy stands near, protecting from harm.
So close your eyes. Dream a sweet dream.
Soon will be morning.
More memories to keep.
Once he's in bed the last couple of nights, he's been awake with his truck and big dog that he uses as a pillow, talking about "(s)nowman". See, there is a huge, inflatable snowman in the window of our local The Bargain Shop. Everyday he asks to "(s)ee (s)nowman" so we do a drive by when we're out and about.
It's the little things.
Nov. 28, 2013