Rock-a-bye, big boy

It's irrational, I know. But it's a fear I can't seem to shake lately. And my guess is, you've likely felt it at some point in your life. Probably since Addison has been born, I've had this underlying fear that something could happen to Seth or I or the kids at any time, and am aware of the horrid grief it would cause. I mostly started realizing it when the kids became particularly "clingy" to one of us--right now, Carter to me. Big time. What if something happened to me?? How would he ever get through that? How would Seth grieve while comforting our babies? (I know, it's deep.)

His preference for one parent (generally me) is annoying at times, but seems to be especially frustrating at bedtime. In fact, a lot of times, we find ourselves getting frustrated by it because I feel gypped on free time and Seth feels gypped on father/son bonding time. Tonight was Seth's night to put Carter to bed and Carter was fine with that...until the time came. At which point he promptly lost it. 

He cried and cried in his room and I was standing my ground--"daddy is putting you down tonight." Seth tried and tried but he really wanted mommy. 

But then that white elephant in my brain crept in...God forbid, what if something happened to him tonight and you were too stubborn to just go in and comfort him? I would never, ever, ever let myself live that down. 

I went in and my precious little boy was sweaty, blotchy, and doing the post-cry heaving. 

"Mommy, rock me." 

Lump in the throat, for sure.

So we rocked. I cuddled and hugged. I sang. I cried a little. And I could slowly feel him relax and start drifting off. I've been here before and I had deja vu. But for some reason, it hit me extra hard tonight. No one is promised forever on this earth and I want to soak up that baby (um, toddler) sweetness as much as I can. 

He's now happily drifted off to sleep and I got extra snuggles with my love bug. 

I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always.

As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be.