A Quiet Moment

It was 2:00 in the afternoon. My little baby's second tooth is coming in, and we've had some rough patches today. He was in an ok mood though, so I set some toys out on the floor of my bedroom. I hoped that chewing on his favorite toys would sufficiently distract him from the pain in his mouth, and grabbed the computer to do some browsing while he plays. We sat on the floor together in the grey light of a cloudy day.

As time passed on, he became more wiggly and discontented. He leaned over my legs, waiting for me to pick him up. I picked him up, but he wiggled right out of my arms again; clearly, my lap was not as fun as he thought.

We repeated this process for the next twenty minutes. Wiggle. Fuss. Pick up. Squirm away. Repeat. I tried to continue my oh-so-important internet browsing over his wriggling baby legs.

A few minutes later, I realized that he was in my arms again. I almost didn't notice, because all the wiggles were gone. He was just quietly sucking his thumb and watching me click on link after link.

I knew I couldn't let this moment go. Everything was so quiet. The house was silent. The neighbors' dog stopped barking. And my son, who was so impatient and busy a moment ago, was gently falling asleep in my arms. This rarely happens these days.

Cheeky little bugger.

He's stolen my heart yet again.