Dance With Me

Won't you dance with me?

Throughout the heavens 

and below the sea?

Up on the mountaintops.

Blow with the breeze.

Come carry me.

Oh, won't you dance with me?

We've loved singing to Rhett from the very beginning. Singing and dancing with him is even better. There's nothing sweeter than holding him close to my chest and dancing about his room with him as he coos happily in my arms. I feel my love for him in my chest. It's hard to describe, but it's true. It's like it's in my lungs and sometimes it feels like it's physically swelling inside of me. I love him so much sometimes that it's physically painful. And emotionally painful to think that he's not always going to want to dance with me. Soon enough, he'll be more inclined to wrestle with me than to cuddle with me. It makes me sad. But he needs to grow up. He can't stay in my arms, dancing away with me forever, and I know that. Mommy and baby dancing sessions always end with me telling my little son the same thing. "Some day, you're going to be all grown up, and we're going to do this at your wedding". The moments to come are going to be wonderful. But for now, I'll take all of the dances I can get.