Updated: Sep. 1, 2017
Originally Published: July 9, 2016
In many households, mornings are often a rush. However, for me, they begin with a moment of bliss. My partner typically rises before I do, while I indulge in the luxury of lying diagonally across the bed in a starfish position. It’s a delightful experience, one that I cherish while I eagerly await my youngest son’s arrival. He bursts into the room with tousled hair and a delightful scent, snuggling up close to me. Although my two older children have outgrown this morning ritual, he still seeks out that special “Mama time,” and I intend to hold onto this tradition until he chooses to let it go.
Throughout our day, whether he is immersed in playing with his drone, building in Minecraft, or concocting a makeshift booby trap, he is often so absorbed that he doesn’t notice me passing by. Yet, without warning, he will pause, wrap his arms around my waist, and squeeze me tightly while proclaiming, “I love you, Mom.” I refuse to release my embrace until he does.
In public or at home, when music plays, we instinctively begin to dance. Sometimes we sway together, other times with some distance between us. My older children may cringe at our antics, but neither of us cares. I’ll continue to dance until he chooses to stop.
He is never too cool or busy to take a picture with me. In fact, the sillier the photo, the better. He often suggests we pose for goofy selfies in mirrors at stores or restaurants, and I always agree. I will keep saying yes until the day he stops asking.
If he’s feeling down, I have a unique way of lifting his spirits. It usually involves tackling him playfully, pretending to be a wild snorting monster until he’s laughing again. Once he’s smiling, I remain by his side, not getting up until he decides to move.
He still allows me to shower him with kisses and share in his delightful essence. There are moments when we sit together, and he leans in, inviting my affection. I won’t stop until he pulls away.
Holding hands while crossing the street, navigating crowded places, or even just for the sake of connection is still part of our routine. He knows he can stay close without it being necessary, yet each time I reach for his hand, he responds in kind. I don’t let go until he does.
He graciously shares his treats with me, even the last cookie. He chuckles when I sneak a finger into the icing on his cake. He always insists I can have more if I desire it, and I suspect I will continue this playful behavior, regardless of his preferences.
I realize that he will grow up swiftly, just like his older siblings. Soon, he may not welcome my kisses, and I might have to compete for hugs. Our cherished morning snuggles will eventually fade, public dancing will lose its appeal, and my playful antics may no longer brighten his day.
As my youngest child, my last, I am determined to hold on for as long as I can. I will gradually let go when the time comes, but that moment has not yet arrived. For now, we embrace in our living room, hold hands at the store, and take spontaneous photos together. I am fully committed to these experiences, treasuring each moment.
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Summary:
In this heartfelt reflection, Emma Johnson shares her cherished moments with her youngest son, emphasizing the importance of holding onto traditions and connections that may soon fade as children grow up. From morning cuddles to spontaneous dances, the bond between mother and son is celebrated, highlighting the fleeting nature of childhood and the need to embrace these moments while they last.
Keyphrase: Emotional parenting reflections
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