Because she still fits in the crook of my arm, tucked right beneath my chin. Because I love watching her rub her blankey on her cheek, blinking her eyes, as she relaxes into me. Because she asks me to. Because it’s the only time she holds still all day. Because I can breathe in the scent of her freshly washed (or sometimes sticky) hair. Because in the dark of her room, I can still imagine her as a newborn. Because in the dark of her room, I can picture her at 3, 4, and 5 years old right in front of my eyes. Because the weight of her on my lap takes the weight of the world off my shoulders. Because her cheeks are still doughy and lovely, and I can kiss them while we rock. Because she lets me. Because when she’s ready to lie down, she says, “Night, night, Mama.” Because I know these moments are fleeting. Because sometimes I need to sit still in the dark too. Because I want to. Because I choose to. Because I get to. Because I’m not sure if this time will be the last time.
This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series “A Question.”