Lies I tell my son

My son and I meditate together.

I downloaded the Calm app from Google Play, hoping to incorporate some meditation into my daily routine. I need some calm in my life. And the app does help. Meditation is not a daily habit yet, but I am working on it.

Kai loves the app. Loves the background noises (both music and water, though he likes the rain best), loves the app wallpapers, loves the soothing narration. We meditate sometimes while nursing. He often falls asleep. As do I. It's lovely.

Even when we are not listening to the app, I try to incorporate some of that peace into our nursing sessions. I cradle him close, gently rock him, and tell him that we have all the time in the world. I tell him that we have nothing else to do. Nowhere else to be. Nothing to worry about.

He believes me, because he is 5 months old. In his eyes, there is nothing I don't know.

I want to believe me. I run and run and do and do, every waking minute. I want to believe I can take this time to enjoy him, my last baby. My precious boy.

The nice thing about these lies is that the more I tell them, the more true they become.