The shirt clench.

He’s not small enough to need to hold onto me for physical support anymore.
He can hold his body up just fine.
He’s steady.
Supported.

He’s not big enough to stop wanting held just yet. He’s still light enough to carry.
So I pick him up when he asks.
He’s steady.
Supported.

His little hand clench on my shirt is his way of hanging on. To hold me close. And it’s mama’s way of embracing his innocence just a little bit longer.

Don’t ever stop clenching little man.
Forever my baby.
Clench on. Hold on tight.
Never let go.

Those little grips.
Those fingertips.
Make mama feel steady.
Supported.

Love & Hugs,

Nicki, Momming all the Boys