Holding on to the little moments

Yesterday morning, we were out running errands all morning.
Towards the end, Xander got tired and perhaps a little frustrated with all the running around we were doing, especially since it wasn't anything fun and interesting to him.
So he asked us to carry him instead.
He didn't want to walk on his own anymore.

So despite that his daddy could carry him instead, I busted out my ring sling and carried him in it.
In all my huge pregnant glory.
Was it hard? Yes.
Was it uncomfortable? Yes.
Did I spend the rest of the day nursing a sore hip and back? Yes.
Do I regret it? NO.

He spent the first few minutes in the sling, with his arms wrapped around my neck and his head resting heavily on my shoulders.
I squeezed him tight.
I held him close.
I breathed him in as deeply as I could.
I memorized the feel of his wispy baby hair on my cheek.
I kissed him more times than I could count.
I remembered how small he once was and how quickly he is growing up.
I realized how fleeting his babyhood is and how the arrival of his sister in a few months would force him to grow up just that little bit more, that little bit quicker.

I chose to hold on to him just that little bit longer, because I know that soon, I won't be able to anymore.
He'll get too big. Too embarrassed. Too independent.

One day, my baby won't need me anymore.
But today, he still did.
And I was there.
I hope he remembers today.