Emotional Snapshot

It has not been an easy day my friends. A low-grade temperature and swollen gums can leave a little man very unhappy. My plans for the day were quickly tossed out and all I've been able to do is try to make it better for him. I've played musical chairs and bounced all around the house in an effort to appease him but everything only seemed to set him off. He cried on the floor, cried in the swing, cried in the glider, cried in my lap. He just cried. He cried when I changed his diaper, he cried when he saw his spoon - I guess solids are out of the question today. When I tried to give him his bottle, guess what? He cried. . . but then he reached for it. He drank it all then cried as I tried to burp him. But I persisted. Holding his little face in my left hand, I patted and patted and patted until I felt him let go. His shoulders slumped and his head leaned into my chest. Sleep had come. I lifted his little body and rested his head on my shoulder. I sat very still not wanting to disturb him and watched the tiny cars on his onesie rise and fall with every breath. Sweet sleep. In an instant I was overwhelmed. All the frustration and helplessness I'd felt all morning vanished and I suddenly felt the need to capture the moment, to breath it in, to take an emotional snapshot so that I would always remember how it felt - his round bottom in my hand, his right foot planted just below my ribcage, his soft hairs tickling my cheek, the weight of his little boy body. I wanted to "be" in the moment as long as I could, to hold him as long as I could knowing that he will not always be comforted by the arms of his mother.