Sentimental sleepytime

Now when you have kids, you can't doubt that they look adorable when they're sleeping.  No matter how close you were to calling the cops on your preschoolers just a few minutes earlier, they look angelic in Dreamland.  And if you're like us, you take photos of these moments of heaven:

And there's many, many more in the McCullough Photo Archive.

Well, this evening I was able to get another photo in the "carter is a sleeping angel" folder, but this one was a little different for me. 

Let me start off by saying I am one of the most sentimental people around.  I find meaning in and can get emotional about the smallest things.  Now when I mean "things" I don't mean like objects or mementos; I could care less about material possessions and am always sorting and throwing stuff out.  If I was on Antiques Roadshow and the appraiser just told me that some family heirloom was worth a ton of money, I would try to sell it right there at the roadshow (probably to the appraiser while the cameras were rolling--"So...you want to buy it?").  That's because I know that I could help out so many people and organizations with that money instead of having something like an ugly vase just sit in my house.  I do hold on to some things, but the list is few. 

I get sentimental about events, moments in time when I take in every detail of a scene in order to make an exact replica in my memory that I can later come back to when I'm in the mood to daydream.  These events come maybe once or twice every six months when something really takes my breath away.

Well, while I was washing up, I heard Carter jumping on our bed and repeatedly giggling while calling out "Mommy....Mommy...Mommy..."  Then all was quiet.  I go into my room and find this:

Our son is so beautiful.  God has blessed us with a boy that has taught us so much about life in his almost three years.

I think with the late evening sky shining in, the smell of just-bathed little boy, and the only sound to be heard being the fan, I had one of those cheese moments where I was amazed that Carter has grown so much and is ours.  (I still look at Clint sometimes and say, "Can you believe that we have a son?  And there he is!  That's our kid.  Amazing.")  I just stared at him.  After an eternity, I kissed him on that little spot above his nose and in between his eyes.  I then pulled myself away so I could put new sheets on his bed.  I stood in his room looking at the decorations (some store bought and some made by Carter) all around soaking the appearance in and wondering how long his room will look like this.  I went back to my room to pick up Carter and put him to bed.  After setting him down, I adjusted his fan like five times to make sure it was in the best position for optimal cooling.  I slowly backed out of the room, whispered "I love you," and left the room.  I walked around the living room like a stranger in my own home thinking how honored I am that God destined me to be Carter's mom even when I feel like I'm doing a horrible job.  A little later, I was back in the real world, and time continued.

That all lasted like 30 minutes...I know, that's kind of weird, but hey...whatever.

Even when he's driving me crazy, these moments remind me that I am blessed because I get to be Carter's mom.