perfect moments

Brody and I, we don't have perfect days. In fact, some days feel like straight up hell, probably more for me than for him. Especially lately as I near the end of my pregnancy. I'm tired, achy, and cranky. What we do have though, is perfect moments, fleeting mostly, but perfect none the less.

It's in the 90's today. It's Montana, almost the end of September and in the 90's! What the heck?! I can't take it. Of course, Brody is in heaven and only wants to be outside. Running, jumping, digging in his sandbox, playing with bubbles, driving his mower, hauling rocks; you name it he wants to be doing it. I adore that about him, is vibrant lust for life. But me, I just want to lay on the couch, pillow between my legs,  with the air conditioner blasting. I feel guilty every time I ask him if he wants to go inside and play. I know I should be taking advantage of being able to play outside. Soon we won't get to be outside and I'll be wishing it was warm. But I ask him anyways, and when I bring up his train (an inside only toy) his eyes light up and I know I've got him. He starts going up the deck stairs and as I try to roll to one side to get up and struggle like a beached whale, I ask my son for help. I know a 27 pound 2 year old probably isn't going to be much help hauling me up, the though flits through my mind and I roll my eyes at myself for even asking. But he stops, turns around reaching for my hand and pulls with all his might. Perfect moment. I got up and he kept holding my hand.

He'd been running around freely in nature so we headed to his room to put on a diaper. He jumped on his bed, laid down, patted the spot next to him and said "nigh nigh". After some convincing we got the diaper on first then he pointed to his turtle and said "star". While he got the stars going, I shut the blinds. He ran to his door to shut that too and met me at his bed. He laid down again, said "nigh nigh" and we laid side by side pointing at the stars and the "moo". Perfect moment. I love when he is snuggly and sweet. I wish it would've lasted longer but he quickly noticed Remi wasn't partaking in our stargazing and left the room in search of him.

The point is, and I know I have written about his before, is that the perfect moments make a hellish day wonderful. It shifts everything into perspective. He is TWO and he is testing me constantly. He is learning so many new things and he doesn't quite understand how to express everything he is feeling or experiencing. I'd probably throw tantrums too. Those tantrums, when they hit, I want to hide away, but I know I need to be there for my son. Even if I feel frustrated or helpless. Even if all I do is sit near him and let him exhaust his feelings, he always comes back to me. Hugs, a little loving and he is back at the next adventure. It's hard and I need those perfect moments. They give me a dose of sanity. I think it's important to make note of them, even if it's only in my mind. If I forget to put emphasis and them, and allow myself to sulk in the low parts of our days, I miss out on the beauty of those perfect moments.