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"You're someone who I'm going to love for a long, long time," says a little person clad in footie pajamas, as he pads into my dark bedroom and curls up in bed next to me. "I love you too, sweetie," I say, putting my arm around his small torso and wondering if my husband has sent him in with a scripted conversation.
"I'm going to miss you when I grow up and move away," he says.
"I'll miss you too, sweetie. But you'll come to visit, right?" I ask.
"Yes, and I'll bring my children to visit you, Mommy." He says.
"Good," I say, drifting back to sleep. It's still early, I'm still tired, and I can barely stay awake, but I'm trying to memorize what he says so I can write it down later. By now I'm pretty sure this is a spontaneous conversation, not a proscribed Valentine's Day one. My husband is downstairs, awake, reading the paper, eating cereal, being the early riser of the family, and my five-year-old valentine is in bed with me telling me how much he loves me because that's just the way he is. Lucky me.
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5 comments:
Your posts are so sweet! I am not surprised you have such a beautiful son. Thanks for sharing!
Rachel:
thanks! I hope you keep reading!
xo
andrea
Ooops, I meant Rachelle! Sorry!
Valentine's Day has always had extra-special meaning for me...it was my "gotcha" day (although they didn't call it that back in the late 1960's:-). My mom made extra efforts to make it special - gifts for everyone. It wasn't until later that I realized that this was the day I was brought into my family.
JBH:
That's quite romantic! My mom used to send me cards on my "gotcha day" (she didn't use that term either), but for many years I took it as an insult; I thought she was devaluing my real birthday. But now that I have a child of my own, I totally understand the importance of the day that a woman becomes a mother, whatever the method.
thanks for chiming in!
(And we missed you at the workshop today.)
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