After I listen to his muffled tired sobs for a little while and he finally gives in and falls asleep, I wait just a little longer till he’s good and out…
Then I sneak in and tiptoe around the toys just to peek over the crib to see him there.
I like to see him there, all still and quiet and peaceful and oblivious and at rest.
His chubby thighs…his soft little feet…his crazy mess of hair.
And for some reason, I get this hilarious feeling in my gut and I start laughing and have to run quickly out of the room…
Or, I get this ache and I start to cry because he’s so peaceful and he’s just a little guy and I want it to always be that way.
The peaceful part…no worries…no fears…just sweet rest.
And I pray for him.
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