We had one of those days on Saturday.
Liam has become a lot better at napping since we went through sleep school but still has the odd 'off' day and Saturday was one of them. Basically he told naps and self settling to eff off and decided he wanted to have all his naps on me after/during extended breastfeeding sessions. He let me know about his decision in no uncertain terms.
The morning session lasted an hour. An hour of sitting there holding my sweet boy while he nursed and snoozed, snoozed and nursed. Then he woke up, we walked up to the polling station with the children and then hit up the playground, and then came home in time for his afternoon nap.
Nope. That one was a ridiculous idea too. So once again I found myself on my bed, holding him. An hour stretched into two, then towards three. I could hear the rest of the family at the other end of the house. I could hear my own thoughts.
There were things I needed to get done today while he was napping...there are things I should be doing...I should be stricter on him and persist with getting him into bed. I should be spending time with the rest of the family, doing chores and housework, cooking, working on my scrapbook, having me time...
Then I stopped, and took a breath. I looked at my little boy, so peaceful in my arms, one little hand soft and warm against my breast, his eyes closed as he slept deeply and sweetly. As I held his trusting weight, I realised. What I 'should' have been doing...was exactly what I was doing. Holding, nurturing, loving. Being in the moment with my baby, as he is growing so very fast and all too soon, the times when he lay in my arms and nursed and snoozed, snoozed and nursed will be but a memory. There was no one else who needed me in that moment as he did. And just as equally, I needed him. So I held him a little tighter, and I breathed him in, and I let go of what I should be doing and gave myself to the moment.