Yesterday was a tough one. Isaac is cutting a tooth and was being somewhat of a crank-monster; we picked out paint for the kitchen, which stresses me out because it always seems like such a big decision, and it never turns out the way I think it will; and Sean FINALLY finished the trim in the bathroom (yay!). So as I was laying in bed I tried to decide on my favourite moment. Was it when Sean hung out with Isaac and I instead of getting work done on the house because he knew I was just about all babied out? Or was it the funny but slightly disturbing incident of Isaac trying to bite the bars of his crib (It was no easy task, let me tell you, but he was determined) as I was putting him to bed?
I had just about settled on the former moment when Isaac woke up. After nursing him, rocking him, carefully placing him back in his crib and oh-so-quietly sneaking out of the room, I buried myself back into bed. Five minutes later he woke up again. So back up I get, and repeat the soothing process. Once again I successfully sneak out of the room. This time I hadn't even hit the bed before he woke up again. It must have been the teething, because his mommy-radar was set on ultra sensitive last night.
I decided to give up the dance and bring him into our bed. After some initial squirming he rolled over towards me and gently patted my face with those little baby hands as he fell asleep.
Now, to truly appreciate why this was my favourite moment of the day, you have to understand about Isaac's hands. They are not just sweetly-dimpled instruments with which he explores the world, they are also Claws of Terror. Claws of Terror that pinch and squeeze and scratch, and make their way up your nose with a force one would not have believed of something so small and chubby. So, last night, when those Claws of Terror transformed back into little searching hands that seemed to say, "Where are you Mama? I just want to make sure you're still near me," well, let's just say those are the moments that I want to hold onto.