Yesterday, I officially started the third trimester. 27 weeks. 13 to go until we meet our Little Diva. Let's just face it, she's going to be probably going to take after her father and be dramatic. Hehe... Take a moment to picture his eyes rolling when he reads this. Anyway. :)
Until she arrives, I have been working hard to soak up moments with my tot. His days as an only child are numbered. His days of me being able to hold him as much as I do today are coming to an end. His days of looking like my baby are coming to a close. And even though he says he's excited for his sister, Heaven Cheeto, to arrive, I know it will have it's hard moments.
Yes, he calls her Heaven Cheeto. Yes, he's adamant that's her name. Yes, if you ask him, even if he won't say hi to you, he will still tell you his sister's name is Heaven Cheeto. Yes, I think he is going to be upset when he finds out that is not going to be her real name. Pray for us.
I carry my boy whenever he wants. It's getting uncomfortable. It's not always easy. It's hot and tiring sometimes. But those days are going to be less and less real soon. As long as the doctor says it's ok (which they have) to continue lifting my 35+ pound boy, I am going to. I know I don't have to. I know he is capable of walking by himself. I know he's almost three. It doesn't matter. If he wants to be held, I am going to because he won't want to be held or get to be held forever.
I snuggle him every single morning. No matter what time I get up or what I might be in the middle of when I hear his door open, I drop everything and scoop him up. We spend a few minutes snuggling on the couch before the crazy of the day begins. There's always a few moments of peace before he starts asking for breakfast so we just sit. Ok, but if he gets up before I do then I scoop him up into bed with me until he tells me I HAVE to get up. But that's rare. :)
I drop everything to play when he asks. Let's face it. I try to get a lot done in a day and much of it does not involve getting down on the floor and playing. Lately, my son has been straight up asking, "Mom, will you play with me?" and because of that (and our numbered days), I drop everything and play. It might not be for long but for now, I better stop to play.
I pray for him. One of the biggest changes recently happened and it really started with me. I am with him all the time. His weaknesses quickly became annoyances to me. His shyness made MY life unbearable. When the reality was, I needed to be his champion through it. I needed to pray that he found strength and bravery in that timid heart of his. I needed to be patient with him and let him take things at his pace, not mine. And I kid you not, miracles started happening.
I take time to notice--again. The other day, my boy was in desperate need of a nap. It was a long weekend with late nights and sporadic napping. This was finally the day that he could get caught up but after three hours of snoozing and it nearing five o'clock, I decided I needed to wake him up so bedtime didn't become a nightmare. I tiptoed in at five and gently pulled the covers off him. I walked out and left the door open because that's usually all it takes. He stumbled out 15 minutes later almost half asleep and crying. That nap was still too short so while we were snuggling on the couch, he feel asleep in my arms for another 45 minutes. I don't know about you but I can't remember the last time he slept in my arms. While he was there, I took time to notice.
I noticed how his left eyelid was still bloodshot, a sure indicator that he was still tired. I noticed how even though he is so much bigger than he once was and even though I have a growing belly, he still fit perfectly on my lap, like we are puzzle pieces made for each other. I noticed that his hair was getting extra blonde except for a patch in the back of his head. I noticed how relaxed he was, completely trusting where he slept. I noticed how my thoughts drifted towards my sleepless nights. Those nights today are interrupted by toddler steps but one day those steps will stop and I will wonder if my teenagers are safe. I noticed how I never take moments to literally pray over him. I stopped right there and said my prayer of bravery and strength for that gentle soul and tender heart boy.
Even though our days like this are coming to an end and big changes are on the way, it doesn't make me sad. Nothing makes my heart happier than when I see my boy thrive and grow. Just today, he put a shirt on correctly all by himself. "Mom! I did it 'thout you! All by myself!" Yes, he did it without me. Yes, that statement could have choked me up if I let it. But instead, I looked at the sheer pride and joy across his face. He radiated with accomplishment. We high fived. We hugged. I kissed his still chubby cheek. I told him how proud I was that he did that all by himself. I marveled at that beaming little face because I'm soaking it up.