Little Baby

The last few weeks I've been feeling sorry for myself with how big my little boy is getting. At eighteen months, even though he's an affectionate, good-natured boy, I've been missing his babyness. He doesn't nurse to sleep anymore, doesn't rock, and he prefers to run all over the place instead of being carried. I've been torn that the days of holding him sleeping in my arms are over.

Today we went to Mass a little later than usual, pushing Luke's nap back a few minutes. During Mass, Luke wanted me to hold him, but wanted to be cradled as opposed to upright. I pressed my cheek close to his, gave him little kisses, and he fell asleep. What a treat! I was able to hold my little sleeping baby for the remainder of Mass watching him breathe and have the trust in me that only a small child can have.

I'm trying to treasure these last months of babyhood before having to worry about discipline, defiance, and potty-training. Only God knows how I enjoyed the brief moment this afternoon of total surrender in my arms. I pray that throughout his life I'll get reminders like the one today that he'll always be my little baby.