Sleep baby, sleep.

Dylan,
I snuck into your room just now while you were sleeping. You took over an hour to lull and sing-song chatter yourself to sleep for your nap today, which I actually enjoyed listening to despite still being concerned about you ending up with a nap at all today.
After you quieted down and I was sure you'd fallen asleep, I came into your room and watched my little boy sleep. I noted each precious image in my mind: Your perfect cherry-red rosebud lips pressed together. The rise and fall of your back with each breath. Your beautiful blonde highlighted hair catching the light of the dimmed room through the blinds. Your tanned legs folded underneath you, bottom sticking up in the air. Your arms curled underneath your tummy, snuggled in around your blankie.
I wanted so badly to pick you up and hold you in my arms, knowing that these moments of your childhood will oneday pass and I'll ache to have you in my arms again. I didn't. You need your sleep. We had a long morning together after playing at the park and lunch with Daddy at work. And we have our Make and Take playgroup today in another hour. So I let you be so you could sleep.
However I did sit down next to your crib on your little bear-chair and watched you for a while.
I imagined how one day you'll outgrow your crib and move onto a big-boy bed. One day you'll push me away from snuggling you in favor of playing with your friends, claiming your independence. One day you won't look over your shoulder at me to share in a playful smile that comes from a day full of shared moments together. One day you'll outgrow your blankie. One day you'll go to kindergarten. And one day you'll eventually drive off to college and bring home the girl you will marry.
One day.
But you'll always be my little boy. My precious little angel. And I'll always love you with my whole heart and soul.
And for now, I'm going to soak in these moments and watch you sleep.
xoxo,
Mommy

20 months

Dylan,
Today you are 20 months old. What does a mommy say to that? That I am sad to see the infant months fade into the past as you embark on new and exciting toddler milestone, like the infamous no and mine? Well I am. But I also am very excited about the emerging little person that you are developing into each day. I love how you reach around over my shoulder when I hold you, patting my back, as if you are comforting me. And I love how you wave byebye to the cars that pass us in the car.
Your level of energy amazes me. On Sunday I stayed in the church nursery to help another woman watch the kids during the service, and my jaw dropped at how much energy you had: you seemed to run circles around every other kid your age.
You love my shoes.
You love Thaddeus, our kitty (especially body slamming and sitting on him, which used to go over fine with him - but as you grow, I've noticed that he's a bit more disgruntled by such displays of your love).
You love telephones and we crack up everytime you pick up something (phone or not), hold it to your ear and shout a very drawn out hi.
You have discovered the toilet for more than a place to dunk your toys, as you now relish placing your little elmo seat atop the big-person toilet and get to sit like a big boy. But you still haven't actually GONE to the bathroom in the potty, as you always want to get back down off of it, run away, and then pee on the floor elsewhere. (Cleaning up the floor isn't really a step up from changing a diaper in my opinion, but to each his or her own, eh?)
One of my favorite moments of the day is just before you go to bed and we are snuggling as I fix to put you down in your crib. You play peek a boo with daddy over my shoulder as I hold you, pushing his head down back behind my shoulder to start the game. Squeeling with delight as he pops around my shoulders at you. And then you give us both kisses. I love your kisses. Those are the best. THE BEST.
And so as I lament you growing up and out of your infant-ness, I'm so overjoyed at these little things. The little things that are so big to me. And make me fall in love with you more with each passing day.
All my love,
Mommy
p.s. here is what it is like to chase you around the park (note your knack for finding the one piece of trash on the playground)