You, my dear son, love to be held.  All. The. Time. 

I'll hold you for two hours straight, go to put you down and you instantly wake up crying, no matter how slowly and gently I place you down.

Sometimes when I'm holding you, I'll start to feel frustrated.  There's an endless to-do list running through my head and all I can do is sit and hold you!  What about the dishes, the laundry, the packing, the vacuuming?  There's so much to be done!  I can't simply sit here and waste time!

But then I think about how much you've grown these past two months.  How much like a little boy you are starting to look, less and less like a newborn.  How fast this time has gone by already. 

How someday soon, you might push me away when I want to hold you.  How you might be too big to fit snugly into my arms.

I look into your eyes, staring up at mine, and rejoice in the fact that my arms can bring you such comfort.  And then I sit back and relax, pulling your warm little body closer to mine, clearing my mind of my to-do list and simply enjoy doing nothing but holding you.