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sack of potatoes


i know, i know ... how many pictures can you bear to see of my child sleeping cutely? but i somehow never tire of them, and this morning as i snapped this one while he snoozed, then picked him up and got him ready, i had a little inspiration as to why.

from the time he was in my belly, john has been moving. nonstop. sure, he'd take a little rest every now and again, but then the tapdancing and wiggling would continue. i learned (easily) to sleep while he bopped around in there - it got to where i was more taken aback when he didn't move.

when he joined us in the "outside" world, he wasn't any more still. ask my mom - she's got a great video of a few-months-old john, laying on his back and kick kick kicking those feet like he for all the world believes if he does it hard enough, fast enough, he'll just pop right up and go.

and when john learned to walk, he only walked for about 23 steps. ever since then he's been running ... everywhere. you know that kid isn't feeling well when he walks.

he's just a high-energy, high movement kind of boy. if he's not running, he's climbing. if he's not climbing, he's dancing. if he's not dancing, he's wiggling. 

sure, he stops for snuggles. but then he's off again. and it's wonderful. he's fun to watch, a blast to play with, and he keeps us on our toes in the best of ways.

but sometimes ... sometimes i just like the dead weight of a sleeping boy in my arms. there was more of that as an infant, of course, but nowadays it's a rare thing to hold a still john. so i love pictures of him in his sleep, because they capture that quiet stillness that is so rarely there.

and this morning, it was even better than a picture -- i didn't turn the light on, just sang a gentle morning song ("hey little peanut ... good morning i love you ...") and scooped him up into my arms. i gently placed him on his changing table, where i dressed a sack of potatoes that was hardly even conscious. and i picked him up in my arms and held him close, sniffing his hair the way mamas do, and i sighed a deep sigh of contentment. 

wiggle on, little bug ... but every now and again, let mama hold your sleeping self. it's sweet.

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