the intimacy of a sleeping bee

Some days, when life gets overwhelming, I need to step in a little closer and look at the details. 

Sweet little hands, and rolls on his wrists; deeply indented knuckles  and tiny figures holding tight. My son's beautiful long eyelashes. The fierce intensity with which he eats yogurt covered pretzels.

His little smile as he spins in the spinny cup, and how he throws his whole body into it to make it spin faster. The new ways that he discovers the world. His adorable little shoes, and his rainbow overalls. 

These moments, these brief smiles, this day that I'll never be able to live again. This boy who will be another day older tomorrow. This life that is so blessed, and so fleeting. 

Our fancy vegetable chips, his gentleness. The way his hair falls across his forehead, his fingers clenched grip. His sweet profile, his tiny nose.

My boy, my little little boy, my little little Kieran who gets bigger everyday.

Between moving (less than two weeks away!!!), the untenable mess of my apartment which is absolutely COVERED in boxes, and some drama with my landlord who wants to fine me $100 for my container garden (see: here), life has been feeling unbearably overwhelming lately. I keep praying that it will ease up, alternating between hoping that things will slow down and hoping they'll speed up. And sometimes I need a reminder, a reset button, to leave my crowded apartment and my crowded mind and notice all the little details of this beautiful boy that I am so blessed to watch grow.

I frequently think about who he was as a newborn, and how different the toddler I have now truly is. I thought that I took way too many pictures of him then, but now I regret not having more, not having video, not having those moments back. How quickly everything changes! How I wish that I could return to newborn Kieran and hold him again, all snuggled to my chest, for an hour or two.

But with that, I know that I would not trade newborn Kieran for the Kieran I have now. He is so brilliant, so beautiful, so alive and awake. Constantly curious, but timid and gentle; he decorates me with flower buds and leaves he's picked himself, he loves getting sprayed with water, he giggles when I tickle his tummy with my toes, and he dances very, very poorly (he comes by it naturally).

I am so grateful for this little boy, even through the tantrums, even when I wish I could get just a little more sleep, even when it's harder than I ever imagined it would be; it's also so much more worth it than I ever could have known.

Thank you, stinker, for being you and for being sweet, for making me a better and more fulfilled woman, for becoming more and more every day the incredible little person I know you will be.