Yesterday Part 2...a new yesterday, not a continuation of yesterday's yesterday.

My sweet boy has a slight meltdown everyday after nap time. It usually consists of me offering him 3-4 different snacks, him turning them all down, me saying that's fine and walking away, him screaming banshee style for 4 minutes; and then on my honor, asking for the first proffered snack every time. It's cool. But yesterday after that, he got hit on the head by something, and instead of my usual 3 second rub, kiss and sugary, "oh, did you get hurt? Mama sorry." I picked him up, set him on the kitchen island where I was standing and cradled him. Little legs wrapped around my waist, arms nestled in our sweet cocoon, and my arms wrapped around him, my hand on his head holding it close to my chest, tucked right under my chin. We were snuggled in, one of those I love being a mom moments, where I take stock, and reality focuses so that it's nice and close. And then things got real. This song came on right as we snuggled in:

Still holding him tight, I started to rock him to the music. Like 1+2 to the right, 1+2 to the left, then to the back, then to the front. Normally kids like that for like 15 seconds then, they look at you, laugh, wiggle. No Royce was locked in. He let me keep that little head attached to my chest as I funkified our little bodies to the beat. I had to learn how to mix it up a little here and there, because Royce let me go on for the entire 4 minutes, and half a Macklemore song. By the end, I had sweat in my elbow creases, and Royce had creases from my shirt on the cheek that was pressed against me. Like I told you, for reals we got down. It was one of those moments that I wanted to sear into my memory, if I could just experience this feeling again. I love those moments that smack of wonderful so hard, that I know right as they're happening that I want this one for the special room in my memory, the one with the silver lined memories. Then I can take it out, see it, feel it, hear it, and know that moment, even when my boy is a man, and he doesn't let me hold him, and he doesn't have the chubbiest, softest peaches and cream cheeks anymore, and his blue eyes aren't only for me. It really is the little moments.