Friday, May 14, 2010


I have to put the clothes in the dryer and do one more load of laundry tonight, but I keep cuddling.

I have to find his sister's other sandal for tomorrow, but I keep cuddling.

I have to call that prescription refill in to the pharmacy, but I keep cuddling.

I need to call my sister back, but I keep cuddling.

I need to send out a reminder email for an upcoming Girl Scout event, but I keep cuddling.

I should wash and dry my hair tonight instead of trying to drag my butt out of bed early tomorrow morning, but I keep cuddling.

I'm getting hot, hugging my wee, little space heater, but I keep cuddling.

* * * * * * * * * *

In my quiet bedroom, with my youngest child, my only son, my very last baby (who is no longer a baby but a three-year old preschooler) snuggled against me breathing softly, I keep cuddling. He's sound asleep. I could carry him back to his own bed right now. But I keep cuddling and try to quiet my mind. I ignore the voice that keeps trying to remind me, one by one, of the things that I still need to do.

I breathe in my baby boy’s scent and rub my cheek against his hair.

Cuddling my last little baby is what I will do. Just for another minute or two…

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