it's only a paper moon.

You waved your plump index finger at the sky this morning, and I tried to discern the plane that I was sure would eventually appear; after all, you hear them before either your father or I do, but you're always correct in your confident "Bsss!  Bsss!" pronouncements.  I vainly searched the length and width of the faraway, early-morning ether, only to realize you weren't telling me about the bsss; no.  Your focus was on the ghostly, half-eaten swiss cheese shadow that lay embedded deep in the bright blue above us.  I tried to explain what you saw, that it wasn't a plane, but your interest waned quickly.  You were suddenly startled by the black, wavery patch on the grass nearby; a patch, oddly-shaped, that darted, and swayed, and slithered in the light.  You shuddered, and backed even further into my lap.  I held your hand, and waved it slowly in front of the black shapes.  You didn't understand, you squawked to say.  I waved my own hand, as though it were underwater, and brought it within an inch of the wavering thing.  It looked so like my own, though black and without dimension, that you seemed to suddenly comprehend, as if a balloon had popped in your head, revealing the meaning.  I said, "Yes!  Like the mirror, baby.  This is a shadow.  Just like the mirror in your room.  And the reflection in the oven door."

You turned, a grin dancing on your mouth, and waved your paw jerkily at the shadow, bobbing your head and grunting enigmatically as it returned your greeting. 

Just then, a plane embarked on its trip across our personal patch of sky, and you lay back across my lap, your ear pressed against my stomach, and with arm and finger outstretched, said, "Bssssssssssss," softly, in wonder, the scent of the lemon-mint shrub you had earlier pounced on still strong on your fingers and cheeks.  You were my baby for that moment, that infinitesimal instant, that lightning flash of time.  I saw you, as you were, as you will be, and you were mine, to squeeze and chase after and teach and learn from and snuggle and laugh with and worry over and worry over and love beyond reason, if only in that brief instant.  And, as if to confirm those musings, you looked at me, and hooked your pointed finger into my nose, and made your cough-laugh that you find so endlessly funny.

Comments

[bubandpie]

The Pie always likes to get her fingers in my mouth, to leave scratches with her sharp, sharp nails (and yes, I know that's my fault because it's my job to cut them!).

It's really just ridiculous, the way you can describe things so that the words you've chosen become simply the right, the only possible words.

[Mommy off the Record]

May you have many more of these snuggly moments.

And remember that while they may seem fleeting and while they may be forgotten by your little guy when he is 5 or 10 or 15, these are the moments that will be ingrained into his subconscious, and they are the reason that he will say "I love you, mommy."

[motherbumper]

That made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I like that because it helps me capture my moments with Bumper with your wonderful words. You tame them into something I love to read and share. Thank you.

[Marcie]

Sounds like the good ol' days to me. The moment captured forever with your beautiful words.
*sigh*

[Catherine]

Ugh... I'm so not worthy. And yet, wow. I kinda KNOW you! You and your precious moments are frameable, little miss D.

[roo]

Thanks. I needed that.

[Sunshine Scribe]

Beautiful moment captured, as usual, with such a stunning painting of words.

I remember the moment when my son first discovered his shadow. Amazing.

[Andrea]

Spectacular. Seriously. You described it with such clarity that it took me back to moments with mine that I felt but couldn't articulate.

You are some kind of writer, girl.

[jaelithe]

One of the most incredible things about being a parent-- the charge of explaining the entire world to an entirely new human being-- captured beautifully.

[Kristin]

just a lovely, lovely post.

[MelanieinOrygun]

What everybody else said.
And plus, doesn't it crack you up, in a watery laugh kind of way, when they take that moment you're savoring, and turn it into something semi-grotesque like "find mama's boogers"? Endless laughter at my house when they were this age.

[Rock the Cradle]

Mmmmm. I think I'll try to dream about those moments tonight.

Our shadow games are some of the most timeless moments the Impling and I will ever share. And it's SO cute to hear her little voice declaring:

"Shah-DOO!"

Wonderful post. Many thanks.

[Heather]

A truly beautiful post. Thank-you so much for sharing it!

[Her Bad Mother]

"Mine to squeeze." And everything else. Yes.

[Nancy]

I love how you present these moments -- I can see as if from your eyes and your son's simultaneously. Beautiful.