There are times when I go into the boy’s room before going to bed myself and I am hit by something powerful. I well up with tears and I love them fiercely. Maybe its joy, or maybe it’s something else entirely. I am not sure exactly but it is big and it has an intense effect on me. I pull Segundo’s cover back over him, the one that he is now laying on after going to bed with it on top of him. I am not sure the process of going from awake to sleep for Segundo but it involves starting on his back with the blanket on him, to laying on his stomach with the blanket scrunched underneath him like a sky blue body pillow. When I see his face the feeling hits me and I want to live in that moment but I think I would explode. It is too intense to inhabit and so it passes quickly leaving me near tears and full. It is all I can do to not pick him up, wake him, and hold him tight. I have to will myself to move slowly and controlled pulling his blanket out to cover him again.
Then I go over to Primo in his toddler bed and kneel down with my head on his pillow. I tell him important things and smell his hair. I want to crawl in bed with him but I am too big and I have my own bed to get to. These boys have no idea the effect they have on me, even sleeping, especially sleeping. I know I will embarrass them when they are older trying to tell them how amazing it was for me to watch them sleep. They will think I am crazy and they will be right in a way. It really is crazy how much I love those boys. I am consumed with love for them, it is intoxicating and probably the best part of my day is going into their room when they are sleeping. It is crazy, but I don’t care. I’m OK with being crazy.