Briggs had a hard time falling asleep. I knew he wasn’t feel well, so I entered his room, scooped him out of his crib and cradled him in the corner chair in his room. We both worked to get comfortable in the chair. He laid on my chest as I slouched to rest my head on the back of the chair.
Briggs turned his head from the left side, to the right and back to the left over and over again. His wiggles slowed – he was awake, but still. I had one hand holding the back of his head and the other hand rubbing his back slowly.
He suddenly seemed really long; his head was on my shoulders and his feet were digging into my legs. He didn’t curl up the way he once had. Instead his legs dangled. As I was mentally lamenting his size, my back rubbing hand had stopped and my hand on his head started to massage.
I gently pulled the curls on the back of his head. His hair is getting long. I want to cut it, but part of me only wants to cut the top so I can keep his baby curls. The minute I cut his hair, he really won’t look like a baby – then again as I snuggled up to him, he didn’t feel like a baby. Not anymore. So maybe a haircut to match wouldn’t be so bad.
