One thing I've learned as a mom is that a routine is only a routine for so long. Babies change what they like from one stage to the next. You use to like to lay on your back to sleep, now you can't stand 60 seconds lying down to get your diaper changed. You hated peas one week, loved them the next. One second you like to crawl the next you only want to be held.
It's all a part of you exploring your world. Figuring out what you like, what makes sense, what fits, what doesn't.
So when parts of our routine that I love change, I get sad. Those are the parts of you growing up that make this momma want to freeze time in an ice cube tray of memories. Some day when I'm 74 I'd open my freezer take out a baby moment cube and plop it in some tea.
Our night time routine has included me saying prayers over you since the first night we brought you home. They began with you in my arms being rocked to sleep, but that stage passed and you became wiggly. I'd lay you in your crib with my hands rubbing your sweet hair, but that stage passed and you wanted to be picked up if I was over your crib. That moved me to our last routine where I'd place you in your crib with a kiss and say our goodnights and then tip toe to our room where I watch you on the monitor and pray for you as you fall asleep.
This week the routine changed once more. For the past 6 nights I have held you in my arms and hummed to you like an infant. You have listened to your lullaby and you have looked in my eyes.
I feel full.
You have laid on me while I whispered your prayers into your ears.
I feel blessed.
You have given me moments to cherish once more. And while this routine is hear I will savor every last sweet drop, because I know it won't stay forever. I love you more than the chocolatiest chocolate cake sweet baby boy.