I get it

I get this now. I got it tonight. I put Jacob to bed and he stood up. "No! Hayna." Hayna is Jacob's word for Thomas. He pointed to one of his Thomas books. I got the book for him, and he laid down in bed with his blankie and his book, quietly turning pages and "reading" to himself. I turned on his nightlight and turned off his light, leaving the room with glee. My child is a reader. He loves to read when he's awake, and now he wanted to read in bed. The joy that swelled in my heart? Mt. Everest sized amounts of joy. I came out to write a little bit, and he started crying, and crying, and whining - which is actually unusual. Jacob is very good at going to bed now. After a couple minutes, I couldn't take it. He needed me, and tonight, I needed him. He was sitting in his crib, with tears streaming down his face and snot to match. I grabbed him, and he grabbed his blankie and then me. I sat on the floor near his crib and hugged my tired baby. I noticed, as I whispered to him, I was holding him in our once familiar nursing position, tummy to tummy. I noticed, as we looked in each others eyes, that he almost felt like the two week old child I would stare at for hours on end when we were in this very same position. I noticed, as our breathing slowed to the same pattern, that Jacob did not fit on my lap the same way he once did. His lanky arms had no where to go but around my torso, his legs were so long that his knees didn't touch my crossed legs. I noticed, as I spoke to him, that I interchanged the words "big boy" and "baby" one phrase after another. "I love watching you grow up. You are such a big boy." "Go to sleep, my sweet little baby." "I love watching you read, big boy." "Sweet Baby Jake. Shut your eyes, my sweet baby." I thought about the book Love You Forever. He was always her baby. Just like Jacob will be over six feet tall and may hover around 190 lbs and will be strong and responsible - and he will always be my baby. And I felt a ferocious, protective, overwhelming love like I haven't felt in at least two days. Just before I put Jacob, now in his near sleep, down for the second time, I whispered in his ear, "I love you Jacob. You'll never quite know how much I love you...*until you have your own sweet baby." *but I still don't think he'll quite get it, since I still hold firm to the belief that nothing else comes close to nearing the fierce love of a mother; not even that of a father.