The other day, Carter was in a mellow mood so I propped him up in his glider chair and began clipping his tiny nails. They grow like weeds, and before I know it he has these ghetto-fabulous talons like some kind of homeless crackhead and he's accidentally scratching his face and whatnot (those are definitely "Oh shit - negligent mommy!" moments).
When I began clipping he was just gazing around the room pleasantly, staring at the bright pictures on the walls, or the way the light came through the window, or the shadows on the floor. Suddenly, in the midst of my clipping, I realized that he had become strangely still.
I looked up to find him staring at me with a big smile on his face. It was as if he was saying "Thank you mommy. I don't want to look like a crackhead."
Delicious, priceless moments like these make me want to stop time and preserve his sweet baby perfection forever. Yet so many glorious adventures lie ahead - so I simply smile, kiss his tiny face, and soak it all in, loving every exhausting, challenging, overwhelming second.
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