I can hardly believe how much you’ve grown and changed lately. Spending a week away from you helped it seem even more sudden. It’s a little bit like your childhood is a handful of sand, and the harder I want to hang on, the more it slips all too quickly from my hands. You’re not a baby. You’re a boy. A sweet, smart, wonderful boy.
There are so many things I love about you.
I love the way you hug. Head down, patting me on the back, and of course accompanied by a soft “aww”.
I love the way you say Amen before I can at the end of our nightly prayers.
I love the way you pretend not to hear me when I’m telling you not to do something, but when I start walking toward you…you stop that “forbidden” activity immediately and try to run off.
I love that you already have a sense of humor.
I love the way you laugh loudly at yourself.
I love that you think all music is worth dancing to.
I love the way you mispronounce dinosaur.
I love that you love being read to.
I love when you point out your own eyes and have to squint because you point too hard.
I love that when no one is asking, you’ll still point out your belly randomly.
I love how everything red makes you say “Elmo!”.
I love your fishy face.
I love that you spot every duck no matter the situation.
I love that you spot monkeys that do not exist just so you can make the sound.
I love that you keep me in your line of sight at all times.
I love that you want to help, even if that means the occasional cell phone ends up in a dishwasher.
I love that at the age of 18 months…I can already see a little man forming.
I love that God has given us the privilege of being your parents.
I love you.