The amazing growing boy.

I am struck, at 2:30 in the morning, by how far Eliot's legs dangle down off my lap as we sit and silently rock. He grows by inches and feet during the night, like a spear of asparagus stealthily pushing its way out of the ground. One day he was not there at all, and the next he was standing tall beside me. Tomorrow night I fear I'll find myself rocking a forty-year-old grown man, whose legs touch the ground, as in the weirdly captivating children's picture book Love You Forever. Will he be clutching his plush blue moose, I wonder?

I rock him longer than I need, or longer than HE needs, to tell the truth. I listen to his soft breathing, thankfully clear of any wheeze. I breathe in the night scent of him, no longer baby sweet, more toddler grubby and urine soaked diaper. My hands appreciate his fleecy warm pajamas as I gently pat his back.

Much later, it feels, I lay him down carefully in his crib, pulling the blanket up to his chin. I stumble back to my own bed, for tomorrow will come too quickly.


Elecia said...

I believe in Love You Forever, that the 40 year old man is the one rocking his old mother! Not entirely sure since that last time I read it was to Libby and she has been able to read on her own for quite some time now. I won't bother to mention how old you will be when Eliot is 40.

Rachel said...

Well, yes, he does rock his mother, but that's later on when she is elderly.
First she crosses town and sneaks into his bedroom to rock him again.
I always thought that book was so creepy, but now the sentiment resonates with me.

Adriane said...

You can't have a son, and read that book without bawling, just can't do it.