Let me tell you about those small moments. The ones that make everything worth it- all the trantrums, tears and awkward body poses that make it impossible to lift, bend into car seat, buggy or highchair. Those small moments that make you relish the nine month of heartburn, swollen ankles and indigestion. Those small moments that make you glad for every searing, hot contraction; every cracked nipple and every pair of jeans that you might never fit into again.
Those small moments that make all of the little things seem like nothing at all. Just little things.
Those small moment occur mostly at bedtime. When he’s sleepy and full of milk and happy to just sit. Those small moments happen when he, at last, is tired of playing, running, kicking, scribbling and scrambling. Those small moments turn him from a rampaging toddler intent on destructive boyish fun, into a calm, contented and loving baby.
Those small moments when he rests his head on my shoulder and sings “Nunight” into the sky. Those small moments when he snuggles into me and smiles up at me with all the love in the world.
Those are the small moments that I want to capture in a bottle and keep forever. Those are the small moments that make being a mum the best job in the world.