Eliot as a newborn (here only a few weeks old)sleeping peacefully.
There is something sweet and wonderful about watching my son Eliot sleep. And not just because the house is quiet at long last or because I can finally get something done without attending to him every few seconds.
Since Eliot was born, I've loved to just stare at him when he's sleeping. I love to wait a minute or two before turning out the lamp in his bedroom at night, just so I can watch him lie there perfectly still, his head off to one side, his beautiful lashes looking so sweet against his full, rosy cheeks. And when I rock him to sleep, I admit to holding him a few minutes longer, not because he needs some extra rocking to fall completely asleep, but because I, as his mom, need those moments to let his peacefulness and sweetness seep into me.
As a mother, I've gotten to know Eliot's many "personas. " There's alert, happy, playing, giggly Eliot. There's hungry, voracious, down-to-business eating Eliot. There's just woken up, snuggly, cuddly Eliot. And then there's my sweet sleeping Eliot. I love all of my Eliots (at the appropriate moments, of course), but there is something especially wonderful about my sleeping Eliot. When he is peaceful, and our house -- for those few precious moments, at least -- is silent and still, it hushes the noise and the distractions that swirl about me and reminds me that life can be, for a few moments, at least, calm and peaceful and still . . . just like my baby boy.
(On a lighter note, this is Eliot sleeping -- and snoring -- just
after a trip we took to the Riverside Park on a
beautiful fall afternoon. Guaranteed to make you smile!)
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