The touch of your hand...

This morning when I was getting the kids ready to leave I put Gavin in the car first and then went to grab Ja. When we opened the door, our little Gavi was crying...I think he just felt alone because he was absolutely fine once big brother was next to him.
After I put him down tonight, I heard a little baby cry from upstairs and went in to check on him. It wasn't quite dark yet so I know he could see me. I rubbed his back and he was instantly soothed. One thing I noticed is that no matter what I was doing to ensure that he was okay to shut his little eyes and drift off to dreamland, he HAD to touch my hand almost as a sign to make sure I wouldn't leave. I knew he was staring at me and I stared back and smiled. There is something tender about little baby hands holding onto your skin and softly caressing it like their favorite blankie...it makes even the most sleep deprived parent stand by a crib without worry of what they are missing in their subconcious. It is priceless.
Everyday these boys do something to make me realize that the moment they came into my life my heart had been stolen....and I don't ever want it back.