small things {fleeting}

small things #64 ... fleeting

I open my eyes and I close my eyes and I open my eyes again to find that I'm awake.  And I'm alone.  Mommy said that she was going to nap with me, but I don't think she did.  I push back the comforter and swing my little chubby legs off the side of the bed.  I have to slide my bottom off the edge of the bed a little bit until my barefoot toes reach the carpet.  I rub my eyes a few times and stagger toward the stairs.  Why didn't Mommy nap with me?

I use my hands to help me navigate the steps - one, two, three, four, five, seven .... I push open the basement door and peer up the stairs to the living room.  I see my Mommy stretched out in the rocking chair, shoes off and eyes closed.

"Mom ... Mommy ... Mommeee," my words come out stuttered with my sleepiness.  "Why didn't you, why didn't you nap with me."

Her eyes open and she smiles.

"Hi, Sweetie.  I came downstairs, but you were already asleep and I didn't want to wake you up."

"You said.  You said you would sleep with me."

"I know.  Did you have a good nap?"

I blink a few times and try to focus my drooping eyes.  "I wasn't asleep.  I opened my eyes and I closed my eyes, but I didn't sleep."

My bottom lip starts to quiver and I feel hot tears press against my eyes.  "You said you'd sleep with me."

Mommy tilts her head to the side and holds her arms out to me.  She turns sideways in the rocking chair and I crawl up and fit into the hole she made for me, sprawled across her lap with one arm flung over her shoulder.  I sniff my nose and wipe it against her shirt.  She sighs and pats my back as I nestle into her arms.  It's warm and quickly I feel a bit sweaty and sticky squeezed in beside my Mommy but I don't want to move.  I enjoy the rise and fall of her own breathing and the way she gently tickles my arm.  She whispers, "I like you," and I smile into the crook of her neck.

I hope Mommy naps with me tomorrow.  Doesn't she know that these chances to snuggle and sleep together are short-lived?

Fleeting ... kids grow up too fast.  I'd better take advantage of snuggle sessions while I can.  Before Lydia declares, "I think I'll just read by myself."