Will

This thing called a mother's love- takes a toll on my emotions...

I am holding Will, wishing I had had the same mentality when Emma was a wee one. Will has taught me to just slow down. I was so rushed into getting Emma to sleep on her own, soothe herself, that I feel like I just missed the cuddly parts of her chubby body.

What's that saying? "Cleaning and scrubbing can wait 'til tomorrow, for babies grow up we've learned to our sorrow..."

Will refuses, for the most part, to fall asleep on his own. He rants and raves in his bassinet, beckoning me to just cuddle. Ok, Will, ok. So I scoop him up and he immediately starts his banter into sleep- "ahhhh, ahhh, ahhh" he says, as he sings himself to sleep in my arms.

To cuddle this little surprise blessing, pulls at every emotion I can muster as a Zoloft addict. I wish I could commit to memory every part of his pudgy body, make a perfume of the smell of his wooby pressed against his fat head snuggling into my breast.

I know the time will pass too quickly, so I linger in this moment of his babiness and drink it all in. Oh, the love...