Just read...

Yes. Simply yes.

I shut my eyes and breathed in the smell of the soft skin of Fred's neck, the soft fleshy part underneath the long curls at the back of his head that I can't bear to cut because they represent the last vestiges of his babyhood. He giggled, because it tickled, but allowed me my moment of wistfulness. He smelled of a sweet blend of clean pajamas, soap, and the unsullied pureness of recently washed toddler, and I felt myself melt. Waves of nostalgia for the baby he will never be again swept over me, and for a moment I thought I might cry. Sometimes it is a question of getting through the days, but then from nowhere come those moments that you want to preserve forever. (From Slummy Mummy by Fiona Neill)