A post just for me.
Simply because I want to remember...
Ok, so I just finished putting Nolan to bed.
Rewind to like 25 minutes ago.
Kev is away for work. He's in Geneva, Switzerland to be exact. And while I truly LOVE that he gets to travel because it often leads to him getting to see and experience places that otherwise might be once-in-a-lifetime opportunities, we miss him. I always miss him. Especially at night when I put Nolan to bed, and then even more so later when I'm trying to fall asleep.
I just really like him a lot.
I literally got off the phone with him not too long ago apologizing because I had just finished crying in his ear. Even talking about our bedtime routine without him here makes me teary. It's like my "miss him" emotions are amped as a lay N down in his crib. Sheesh.
Well tonight was different. And that's why I'm blogging about it. It's like N knows it makes me sad. He was snuggled on the couch right next to me while I was talking to Kev. Then after we hung up, I told N it was time to go night night, so we told all of his toys and shoes "Night, night." <-- you read that right, and I love it. We read a few books, and then, like always, I kissed him, hugged him, and put him in his crib. Nolan has never been one of those kids who needs to be rocked to sleep. He's [always] practically rushing us through the bedtime stories so that he can go to sleep. The kid loves his sleep and has never needed our reassurance to do it well. He's always been very independent in that way. But tonight was different. I put him in his crib. He was standing up like he always does, but instead of the usual "Night, night. I love you" from him came, "Momma?" I said, "Yes baby?" And he so sweetly whined and reached his hands up for me to pick him up. So I did, thinking he wanted another kiss or hug or something. But he pointed at the rocking chair and said, "Rock, rock?" I was surprised but sat down anyway and rocked him. He immediately laid his head on my shoulder and we rocked. And rocked. And rocked. I cried. It was the best. It wasn't my reassurance he needed. I needed his. And he knew it.
It was simply the best. And I want to remember it forever.
Nolan, I will always have time to "rock, rock."
Daddy, hurry home.