Most mornings, my partner gets up before I do, leaving me sprawled out in bed like a starfish, which feels absolutely delightful. I eagerly await my youngest son’s arrival, and when he bounds in with his tousled hair and that irresistible scent, it’s pure magic. He’s the only one of my three children who still craves that special morning snuggle time with Mama, and I’m holding onto this tradition for as long as he needs it.
In the middle of the living room, he might be lost in his favorite video game or building a fort, completely absorbed in his play. Yet, just when I think he’s oblivious to my presence, he’ll pause, wrap his arms around my waist, and declare, “I love you, Mom.” I savor that moment, refusing to let go until he does.
Whether we’re at home or out in the world, music has a magical effect on us. As soon as we hear a tune, we start dancing—sometimes close together, sometimes a little further apart. My older kids might roll their eyes, but it doesn’t bother either of us. I’ll keep dancing until he decides he’s done.
He’s never too cool for a photo op with me. In fact, he enjoys the sillier, the better. Whether we’re at a store or a restaurant, if he asks for a goofy picture in front of a mirror, my answer is always a resounding yes. I’ll keep saying yes until he stops asking.
When he’s feeling down, I can still turn his mood around. Often, it starts with me playfully tackling him and acting like a silly monster, tickling him until he’s laughing again. After that smile returns, I stay right there, not getting up until he does.
He still allows me to shower him with kisses and revel in his sweetness. Sometimes, it feels like he can read my thoughts when we sit side by side; he leans in, inviting more kisses on his cheeks and head. I won’t stop until he pulls away.
Holding his hand while crossing the street or navigating a busy area has become a cherished routine. He doesn’t technically need me to do this anymore, but every time I reach out, he takes my hand in return. I won’t let go until he chooses to.
He doesn’t mind when I sneak a piece of his candy or share in his last cookie. He chuckles when I dip my finger into the icing on his slice of cake, always offering more if I want it. Honestly, I’ll probably keep doing this for years to come, whether he likes it or not.
I know the day will come when he grows older, just like his siblings, and our moments together will change. He may not want as many kisses, hugs might become a rare treat, and our morning snuggles will fade into memories. Dancing in public will likely be a thing of the past, and I might find it harder to cheer him up with my playful antics.
As my youngest, he’s my last child, and I refuse to let go—not until he does. I’ll gradually loosen my grip when the time comes, but that moment is not here yet. For now, we’ll continue to embrace in our living room, hold hands in the grocery store, and capture spontaneous photos together. I’m all in, cherishing every single moment.
If you’re navigating the journey of home insemination, you might find useful insights in this post about intracervical insemination. For more guidance, check out Make a Mom’s Baby Maker Kit, a great resource in this area. Also, visit Parents for excellent information about what to expect during your first IUI.
In summary, I will cherish these moments with my son for as long as I can, allowing our bond to flourish in little ways that mean so much.