If I had one wish it would be to be able to freeze moments in time and gently wrap them up to be opened and re-lived later in life. I find myself, often these days, catching my breathe and being overwhelmed with emotion for my boys. Hartly is a month and a half shy of turning 3 years old. Tayo just turned 4 months. I continue to grow more and more in love with Frank with each passing year and each new addition to our family. Life right now is so vibrant and delicious.
Taye lays on his back on the ground with me leaning over him, inches from his face. He kicks his legs and wiggles his body and grabs for my hair and squeals with delight when he is able to catch ahold of it and move it to and fro. Tayo’s laughter and giggles are like sunshine that has been trapped in a small tiny glass bottle... it burst through it, escaping with glee and delight. Even the sound of the glass bottle, breaking into a million little pieces makes a magical shattering music and it is impossible not to dance in the joy of his happiness. His personality is already peeking through his big and beautiful dark brown eyes. He furrows his brow and complain chatters when he is not pleased. He coos and talks and gurgles when he is content. He is so alert and loves watching his big brother. Tayo continues to love pressing up so high when he is on his belly... sometimes choosing to roll onto his back (first time this happened he was just 9 weeks old!),
often content just to look around. He is starting to not like the carseat so much. He pressing his chest against the “constraints” and fusses. It is clear, he wants to move around. He is starting to master holding his own bottle, if layed properly when it is placed in his hands. Although he has a gorgeous smile, he is not quick to flash it at strangers. It must be earned. Luckily with Mommy, Daddy, and Hartly (and a few close others), he does not hold back. He is a pretty good sleeper... although he often wakes halfway in his second nap of the day and will only go back to sleep if he is worn. Some nights he goes 12 hours straight. More often than not, he wakes once during the night and takes 5-35 minutes to get back to sleep. He is so beautiful. He is so alive and so himself and so precious and unique at just 4 months.
Hartly continues to have a steadfast hold on my heart. He is so much more than one could ever imagine from looking at his 3Ft, 3inch, 31 lb, almost 3 year old self. He is: joy, humour, sweetness, curiosity, thoughtfulness, independence, dependence, talent, stubborness, cuddliness, social, creative, silly, hopeful and loving. He overwhelms me with his thoughts about life and death and his curiosity about human anatomy. He loves people immensely and is incredibly loyal. He doesn’t understand why children don’t answer when he addresses them, though I try to explain that maybe they are not used to talking with other kids their age or do not have the same large vocabulary as he does. He is sad when children grab from him (although he, too, has been known to grab) and is trying really hard to love all colors, although dark blue and white are the two that always call his name. Hartly loves his brother above all others. If Tayo is on his playmat when Hartly walks into a room, Hartly takes whatever toy or activity he has over to do it right next to him. The two were in a bubble bath the other night and Hartly leaned his little face right down close to Taye’s and said, “Tayo, I love you my sweet, sweet darling”.
Hartly wants Taye to watch him and he rushes over to him if he is crying. He shushes or pats him and tells him, “It’s ok baby”. Hartly wants so badly to pick Tayo up. He has so much trouble resolving the fact that he can’t drag or carry him around wherever he goes. Hart wants to play with Taye. Hartly is working so hard at being gentle but he is a physical kid who loves to hug and dance and roughhouse. His energy has multiplied in the last few months and he is getting so strong. Today he swam 4 lengths (walking in between each length to start again in the deep end) of the 25 meter pool he sometimes goes to with David. (I will not insert that video here because it takes him a long time - below is Hart doing some freestyle)
He is in ballet and is really kinda good. He enjoys the steps, although he says they are very tricky. Frank has been taking him to the track for fun occasionally and little man loves running. Hartly loves Tumbling class and he loves Soccer. He is an active little man. He loves his Mama something fierce. For this I do not hide my delight. I know I will not always be first choice and I will cherish every moment that I am. He is my sidekick, my kindred spirit, my teacher. I learn patience everyday from him. I learn empathy and compassion when I watch him struggle with his inner conflicting and confusion and powerful emotions. I learn bliss when he wraps his arms around me, lays his sweet head into the crook of my neck and whispers, “I love you my sweet mother”. I learn that, no matter what I say or do or how I react, the word poop is hysterical to him. I learn what matters and what to let go of. I learn that moments are precious, precious, precious. He woke up from nap the other day and, I swear, he had lost some of his toddlerness during that hour we were apart... he woke up a little bit older and bigger than when I had kissed him goodnight hours before.
Hart: Mommy, does she live in a house?
Me: I don't know Hart.
Hart: Yes, she does. And she has wipes.
Me: Wipes?
Hart: Yeah. Wipes. You know. For wiping her butt.
(wearing a Valentine's Shirt: Most elgible bachelor and asked me what that meant)
Me: It's like, 'Hey ladies, I'm available'.
Hart: (running down hallway shouting) Hey ladies, I'm a vegtable!!
Hart: "Mommy!! Why is water coming out of my eyes!?!"
Hart: "Look David, I'm bobbing. I'm bobbing in the water Mommy. I'm swimming just like Bob. Bobbing."
Hart: Did you bring my milk for me to drink at the restaurant Mommy?
Me: No but you can just drink water.
Hart: Did you bring my water Mommy?
Me: No but we can get some at the restaurant.
Hart: But do they have my kind of water Mommy?
Me: What do you mean?
Hart: Do they have Vegan water at the restaurant Mommy?
One late afternoon it was very quiet outside when all of a sudden it just started pouring down buckets of rain. Hart and I ran over to the window to look outside and watch in awe. Thirty seconds later, it stopped as abruptly as it had started. There was a moment of silence before Hart slowly swiveled his head in my direction with amazement in his eyes. He said, "Will you show that to me again Mommy?"
Every time Frank and I go out for a date night -
Hartly: Oh please don't go - I'll eat you up - I love you so!
I don’t want to stop the inevitable... I’m not sure I even want to slow it down (some days are verrrrrry long). I just want to capture some of these moments. These days are what songs are written about. When my eyes lock with Tayo’s and it is deeper than a look. When Hartly reaches back for my hand, without a glance in my direction, knowing my hand will be there for him... I have to choke back sobs of gratitude and pure, authentic bliss. I had no idea, before my boys, that my whole body would vibrate with wholeness and be full to the brim, and beyond with glory.
When I was younger, and even still, I liked saving the best for last. I liked my parents to kiss all of my other siblings for bed first, and save me for last. I liked to be the very last person to get out of my country club pool on the last day of summer. I liked to be the last person that still had a spoonful of ice cream left in my bowl. When Frank and I go out for date night, I like him to kiss Hart goodnight before I do. I want to be the last one to kiss Hart as Frank, Tayo, and I walk out the door...
Before I close my eyes for the last time in this dimension, I want right now to be what I remember. I want to save the best, right now, for last. I want to capture these moments to re-live 70 years from now.
The only saving grace is that I remember this time last year. I remember feeling very similar to right now. Hartly was just shy of two and I could’ve sworn there was nothing better in life. And there wasn’t... until there was. That was a perfect moment. But now is too. I have to believe that next year and future years will hold just as much music, color, laughter, love, truth, and delight. Part of me really believes that is impossible. How could it possibly get any better than right now. Part of me knows it is an absolute real possibility.
Just in case, if I had one wish it would to be able to freeze moments in time and gently wrap them up to be opened and re-lived later in life...
No comments:
Post a Comment