Nothing was different about last Sunday. It wasn't extraordinary or life-changing, it was a simple day spent with Jim and D, but it is still a day I want to remember forever. I woke up and felt a little stuffed and sore so I claimed that I had the Plague and laid down on the couch. It was the truth, too, I felt horrible. Jim warmed up a bowl of soup and a cup of chamomile tea and pampered me, even let me watch "Eloise at Christmastime" with Julie Andrews. (Which was adorable. She's a sassy one, that Eloise.)...(And can I say that I adore Christmas TV movies? Oh, I do. Especially when lazing around on the couch feeling horrible.)
There are a few moments I want to just cut out and memorize, hang on the wall in my mind and enshrine or just dust off the cobwebs so they shine more brightly than other memories. Watching Jim as he lifted Diego in one arm and carried him into the kitchen to make me some soup was one of them. It was something he was saying to D, explaining the complexities of cans or soup or winter weather, I don't know. Maybe it was the pampering. Or the honey toast he made. (Yum) Everything about that moment made me love him that much more.
The happiness continued, too, that night. We put Diego to bed, as usual, and he woke up around 9, as usual, and then fell back to sleep a few minutes after. And then...he slept through the night. The ENTIRE night. He's never done that before and I don't expect him to do that again until he's 16. But it was a glorious, sleepy, surprising holiday gift. And that's what I think it was, a gift to me. To both of us. Sleep. He knew exactly what I wanted!
I love my boys.