He burries his nose further into my neck, shifting in my lap until his legs drape down across the sides & I think back to flannel swaddling blankets.  His hand grabs my pajamas & finds it’s way into my shirt until his little palm rests upon my belly, soft from pregnancy & motherhood.  He snuggles down further until his head rests against my chest & he’s listening to my heartbeat & comforted.  He knows me inside & out, the same way I know him.

I think back to the times when I was told that this bonding would not happen as long as he fed from a bottle.  I remember the comments about how nothing could compare to the bond between a child & nursing mother & I wonder why I take that phrase so personally.  How two years later, those thoughts still sting me because I love my baby, too & I think we’re pretty okay together.  I worried I would never experience my child needing me physically & now he finally calms as his head rests against the breasts that never fed him, & I know that bonding flows deeper than milk in all mothers & babies.

I kneel beside his bed, tracing the fire trucks printed on his jammie’s as I feel him relax; it’s just one more way to know he’s mine, when a sweet hand on a warm cheek is an expression of devotion.  His eyes flutter & I notice the matchbox car still grasped in his hand & I smile. A flicker of his lashes catches my smile & he returns it sleepily. I press my mouth to the edge of his bed rail to stifle my giggle; there’s something about it all that made me feel like I just took a swig of warm cider & it’s home & love sliding all the way down.

I love everything about him, from the blonde curls to the little snores  & my heart swells & I think it might burst, but it simply grows & I think that’s the beauty of a mother’s heart – the infinite ability to love.

OH MY TODDLER EYES, SUGAR!

I can blow the candle out now, right?

I’m a weird, thrilled, sappy, happy emotional mess.

Dear ovaries worldwide,
BOOM.

love,
Harrison

My heart cannot take this kind of magic.

oh, & wine.  LOTS OF WINE.  I needed vacation in the worst way possible & while it crossed my mind to set up guest posts or write ahead, I was more focused on making sure that I packed beach towels & Harrison’s stuffed monkey.  We pulled over the sound bridge on Saturday afternoon & I felt myself exhale as I tucked my phone into my pocket & pointed out the ocean to the boy in the backseat.  We quickly threw on our suits & headed to the sand while waiting for the rest of my family to arrive.

The toddler woke with the sun every morning & we quietly snuck out for a walk to search for shells & quiet moments with our family of three.  He giggled as Nate hoisted him over broad shoulders & I gave way to a game of chase.  I took in a deep breath, commenting that on a normal day, we’d be facing the rat race.  This slower pace of life was welcomed.

On the tiny island of North Carolina, we put down planners & live without watches.  I prefer to spend every afternoon with a book under the canopy or diving through waves.  I intended to write during naps, but found myself curled up with an iced coffee & a blanket rather than a laptop.

Harrison, of course, tackled the beach with his typical fearless smile.  He begged to be taken into the water & when his daddy & uncle swam too far, he stood at the edge of the water & cried.  My boy is ready to be a teenager already.

& since I’ve stopped sobbing over my lack of Britney Spears abs or trying to develop melanoma, my beach vacation has become exponentially more relaxing.  I slather 30+ SPF all over, slip into a one-piece, & settle into a chair with a book.  My goal is not to brown – my goal is to slip away from the every day & allow myself to really breathe.

(I never really breathe when I’m away from the ocean.  Do you have a place that helps you breathe?)

]]> http://theheirtoblair.com/2011/07/25/breathing-again/feed/ 26 http://theheirtoblair.com/2011/06/19/fathers-day/ http://theheirtoblair.com/2011/06/19/fathers-day/#comments Sun, 19 Jun 2011 13:00:01 +0000 heirtoblair http://theheirtoblair.com/?p=6726 To the man that makes my dreams come true.

Thank you for being devilishly handsome.

(& being utterly amazing at that fatherhood thing.  I hope our little boy grows up to be just like you.)

I’m breathing a sigh of relief.

I haven’t been necessarily worried.  Harrison makes great eye contact, plays games, follows simple instructions, & is very social with his little “friends.”  But still, it’s nice to see the kid learning to use words.  He’s had “doggie” & “Daddy” for awhile now, “bus” came about two weeks ago, & “balloon” came this past week.  Granted, we’re probably the only ones that would understand him, but right now we’re the only ones that matter.

My working momma friend Shannon got me all excited for the weekend as she bubbled over about how wonderful & relaxing & plan-free this weekend would be.  That kind of excitement is simply contagious.

Tonight, Nate & I will curl up with a movie & I’ll probably splurge for a glass of wine.  We’ll wake up with the sun tomorrow & make breakfast in our pajamas.  & since the weekend is supposed to be full of sun with warm spring weather, I have a feeling we won’t be inside too much.

mmmm, Vitamin D.

Any weekend plans on your end of things?