***final fleeting moments***

I recall most of AJ's first year in particular his first 6 months his constant need for my body (as I right that is sound odd and just somewhat off) but in truth I don't have other words to describe it. He had a constant need to be held his poor little colicky body curled up into a ball or arching seemed only to relax with the constant motion of rocking or walking he sleep soundly only when positioned on my chest like he was pinning me in a giant baby wrestling position. With constant spitting up came what felt like marathon nursing and I was still under the trance of the nurse on demand instruction. It seemed I would forever be the arms that rocked, the body that comforted and the food that nourished.

and then times changed

In his second stage he needed me to be his safety his eyes and brain to keep his free passionate and running spirit from traffic and danger. So I found myself running, climbing, carrying and still nurturing and nourishing on a constant never ending schedule.

I felt my first release of body the day he walk from my side to the preschool circle he tossed me back a warming smile and then turned with out a thought to his first taste of independence and to my astonishment, I cried. Yes this baby had grown and wandered only a little way from my body for what would later feel like the blink of an eye and yet I felt I had abandoned purposely a limb to the care of virtual strangers.

Fast forward to this year he is 7 he spends an average of 25 hours a week in the care of our fantastic public school. Now he shy's away from my offered hand in parking lots and says "Mooommmm I can do it", and he can. He tosses me a grin and throws his sports bag over his shoulder while running towards the soccer filed where his friends and coaches wait and call his name.

and so...

I now enjoy, no, I hold dearly to the final fleeting moments when he forgets he is wanting to be grown and his hand slips into mine.