Each night, after the rush of dinner, clean-up, pajamas, and teeth brushing, the four of us snuggle in the Big Bed to read the goodnight books. Once we've finished Jimmy's stories and Billy and little Jim disappear down the hall, Charlie and I snuggle in deeper for our alone time. Sometimes we read a few chapters of a big boy book or I draw mazes or write words for him. Sometimes Charlie just wants to talk before drifting off. Tonight Charlie asked me to tell him a story. He wanted to know about the night he came home from the hospital.
As I ran my fingers through the thick locks of four year old Charlie's hair, I described how 3 day old Charlie was so small that his crib--the same crib Jimmy sleeps in now--seemed as big as an ocean all around him. I said that Daddy and I called him our little "surrender monkey" because as he lay sleeping, he would fling his tiny arms up by his ears. The winter when Charlie was born was the snowiest one in Wisconsin's history, and the snow swirled and howled outside the nursery walls on our first night home together. Even though we were cozy and safe inside, I worried about leaving my new baby Charlie in that big, cold bed, and so, after kissing him goodnight and walking away, I crept back to him and pulled a hat onto his fuzzy head, and I put a sock on each of his tiny hands. Four year old Charlie thought this was pretty silly, so I explained that Daddy and I had never been parents before Charlie was born, and that we were nervous, and that we had wanted to do a good job because we loved our little surrender monkey so much from the very beginning. Four year old Charlie, my wise little rascal, told me that he had never been a baby before then, either, and that it was hard to be a new baby, too.
Moments ago he drifted off to sleep, the fingers of his left hand still laced with the fingers of my right. His hand is soft in parts, but he already has callouses on his palm. I'm suddenly aching with the memories of that first terrifying night when Charlie was all ours, and when I foolishly thought I could protect his baby hands with a pair of socks.
2 comments:
Nit, That was a charming blog. Coach and I use to laugh when you and Billy would put your hand on baby Charlie's chin, move it up and down and say "Was I born yet?" I am so grateful for all the wonderful blogs you have written over the last over the last 23 months. They always make my week.
This makes me want to cry! Why do they have to grow up so fast?
I remember when Chris and I came to Madison to visit you just a few weeks before Charlie was born. You were the first person I told about my pregnancy with Evie (I was only 5 weeks along!). To think that our little ones are now little people is terrifyingly wonderful. How could four years have passed since that cold day in Madison???
Post a Comment