I don’t have many opportunities to cuddle with the Cellist anymore. He’s 10 and 10 year olds usually have their own agenda. Now, make no mistake, he loves me, he says he does, and he does things in his 10 year old way to let me know that. Making fun of my singing, laughing uncontrollably when I try to attempt something that he SWEARS a mom can’t do, things of that nature.
That’s why it breaks my heart when the cuddling comes at the brink of sickness. You see, the Cellist has asthma. We are blessed in that he doesn’t have frequent flare ups, but when he does, OH BOY!
So for this is the worst attack that he has had in several years. When he rushed up the stairs from school crying and went straight to hug me, I knew that it was time to just enlist the mommy in me, and pamper him fully. I will always remember him as my little snaggletoothed baby that has just gotten a little bit taller. I will always cherish the time that we have together until he doesn’t want to sit underneath my protective arm anymore.