He snuggled down under the covers with me tonight, an unexpected but needed joy for me. He, who never seems to need me for more than a diaper change, snack or sippy cup, wanted to curl up with me. I savored every moment.
Two years ago, I spent this night restless, sleepless, worried, fearful. He was coming…early, sick, in need of life saving intervention. I couldn’t even imagine what life would be with or without him. A boy after so many girls…a mystery. And after all the worrying and healing had passed, we had this little miracle boy.
Full of surprises! I’ve never laughed so hard or been so tired. He is his own little man already…sure of what he wants, with a plan to accomplish. He loves sticks and mud and rocks, trains and trucks and sirens, dogs and kitty tails and worms, pounding the piano keys, stomping his foot, laughing out loud. He loves books and stories–especially about Jesus. He always wants to have a job to do, a mission to accomplish. He’s shy around strangers, but they don’t stay strangers for long. He’s a great back seat navigator, has a terrible temper, loves to say “no,” kisses with his mouth wide open, eats things off the floor, flushes things down the toilet, climbs everything, loves his sisters, and talks incessantly.
He’s our boy.
And when he wakes up in the morning, he’ll be two.