I struggle at each day’s end. Tucking Will in to bed, we sing songs. Usually I take requests, given by suggestion. “Would you like…. Hushabye Mountain? Goodnight My Someone? Loverly? I’d Do Anything? Surrey with the Fringe on Top?…â€
Lately, Will smiles his sly smile and offers some faux titles based on his current obsessions. “How ‘bout Monster Song? Shark Song? Dinosaur Song? Tarantula Song?â€
Some nights, I do my best to make up a song on his chosen theme. But even on those nights, we end with a song from our established repertoire. 
Sometimes, he sings along. Sometimes Kate is there in bed with us, curled up in between. Sometimes, she sings, too.
No matter the song, or the singer(s), Will always follows up our lullabies with requests of cuddles. He asks specifically “to cuddle Mommy†and expects this cuddling to be all-night, or at least until-he-falls-asleep.
I always cuddle for a least a few minutes. Then the struggle begins. Kate gets fussy and needs burped or walked. Paul has asked me to help him with a project after Will is in bed. Laundry needs to be folded, dishes to be done, cats to be fed, trash to be taken out. Maybe I want some time to be Alone. These trivial tasks compel me to move. The stuff of life creeps into my head and pulls me away from the pillow I share with my son.
I know in a few years, years that will pass so quickly that I will forever be asking how they passed by so fast, I will long for these nights. I will miss my child that asks for his mother to cuddle him to bed. Miss his arms pulling me to his side, resting his head on my shoulder.
Violet | 16-Aug-06 at 7:09 am | Permalink
Yeah, I’m afraid so . . .