fleeting moments

Two days ago, the clouds came rolling back into the valley where our treehouse resides, and here they have stayed. Our once warm air has returned to the chilly air I will be sad to leave one day. While Mark is gone, Mont and I do whatever we can to fill our hours and days.

I sew, he practices his scooting slash crawling.

We play with Buckwheat.

We knock heads together and he laughs while I fight back watering eyes as he comes crashing in for another killer nose crusher.

He is one hundred and one percent boy, and I love it. Though, I would survive a little better without the nose crushing. Is it possible to slowly break a nose?

When he starts to get sleepy, I wipe off the graham cracker crumbs from his small hands using a warm washcloth I call, "the blue monster!", and then we begin our ungraceful dancing.

There is music playing most every hour in our house. But when he gets sleepy, I turn on more swirly-dirly music and lower the volume a few notches. Then I begin our twirling and side stepping.

He begins in the upright position in my arms, and ends in the supine, cradling position I won't be able to do for much longer. This is the part I especially love. The last few days he has been more of a cuddler. Not much... but ever so slightly. I can hold his hands a little more easily, and he'll nuzzle me right back.

My days are full of these sweet moments. In so many of my prayers, I can only utter statements of gratitude with a sprinkle of, "please watch over my loved ones, wherever they are."