I curl up to snuggle next to my son in the morning before waking him. I do this for me because it feels insanely good to hug his still body and to sniff his hair, feel his warmth. The days to be physically close to my children, to be a mother with touch and skin, are waning. I cherish each and every morning I have left to do this.
But now it is time to start the day. I run my hand up and down his backbone. I stroke his side, a thigh. He becomes wakeful – first with a stretch, then a long deep inhale, an arm flops, a leg flips, a cover is kicked off. His body shudders. Reeeeeeeach…..
He nuzzles his head into my cheek and kisses me. He stays very close. He still has baby breath. We lay still as he becomes fully aware of being awake. The sky is brightening, The room is still dark. Steam pipes creak, snap and quietly hiss.
Then he speaks his first word of the day. “Fart”.