Hand in my face

This morning I awakened to my son's hand in my face. At some point he decided to come snuggle with me after my husband got up. When I opened my eyes I saw this small hand through my blurry eyes and for a moment it looked small like a baby's hand. I was transported back in my mind to when he was a small baby and I had a skip in my heart. Then I had another skip that was more of wistful sadness...my son's hand is not getting any smaller. It is moment's like these that make me remember that the clock is ticking on his childhood and I would like to be more present with both my kids.

On a similar and wistful sadness note...I often say that I really cannot remember my son being a baby. That is because I had a challenging 18 month old when he was born and every minute was spent wrangling her. I even remember leaving my son in his car seat most of the time and when I would pass by (on my way to my daughter) his arms and legs would start moving in what I'm thinking was excitement) and then I would look back and they would stop. Here is what I imagine he was thinking....A person, a person, maybe if I move and look cute she'll pick me up....and then...bummer, maybe next time.

I think the second born can get a little bit of a bum ride (unless he/she is born to supermom). Sometimes I wonder if his 'sensitive nature' is linked to this sort of "afterthought" existence when he was a baby. I am not beating myself up about it because I know that I did what I could with the resources I had, but I would love to have a rewind so I can REMEMBER MORE OF HIM. Maybe that is why now whenever I see him I have to squeeze him...because he's soooooooo cute, and maybe I missed some snuggles in the beginning. (picture is of my son at 1.5 months)