Sunlight peeks through the shades and casts a light glow on Doodlebug's blue room.
His eyes are heavy with sleep, but he still has a strong grip on my ear.
The nuk in his mouth squeaks.
I know he will be asleep in a moment and that I could leave him drowsy, but I cannot tear myself away from this rare, quiet moment with my son. We lay still, staring at the ceiling and breathe in rhythm, our chests rising and falling together. Doodlebug rolls toward me and softly rubs his hands on either side of my face. "Mama" he whispers, before closing his eyes into sleep.
