The Life Not My Own

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Thankful

Tonight my little one played in his bath, jabbering away about something I couldn’t understand.  He reached out his hands toward me and I wrapped him up in his froggy towel, which will soon be too small.  As I put it over his head he giggled and showed his four bottom teeth, coming in slightly crooked.  I reach for my phone to record a video, knowing full well I can never truly capture every precious detail of that moment.

I soak it all in, and my heart hurts.  Suddenly he’s five, and doesn’t want to snuggle.  And twelve and I can’t make the boys like him.  And sixteen telling me he hates me.  And eighteen driving away.  And thirty with a little crooked-toothed little one of his own.  And—oh—my heart feels squeezed and I just want him to stay this way forever.

And yet, I know that can’t be…and I don’t want it to be.  I want to see him grow and develop into the man God created him to be.  I want to see him dream and learn and achieve.  I want to see him fail and persevere and grow.

But—oh—how I wish I could just bottle this moment up and keep it forever.  But I can’t, and the moment passes, and he’s already a minute older.

I get my little one a fresh diaper and put on his cozy pajamas.  I brush his fuzzy, uneven hair—so much like his father’s was at that age.  I kiss him and hug him and his daddy rocks him to sleep.  And I am thankful.

Thankful for the way he sleeps with his arms above his head—like his daddy again.  Thankful for the way he says “uh-oh”.  Thankful for the way he pushes things around constantly.  Thankful that he loves giving the dog a treat.  Thankful for the way he crinkles his nose and snorts.  Thankful for the way he loves the little man in his Duplo tractor.  Thankful for his little head-butts.  Thankful for extra snuggles when he wakes early with sore gums.  Thankful for the way he smears his food in his hair.  Thankful for the way he loves his Daddy, whom he calls “Ah-nah”.  Thankful for this way he falls asleep with his hand down my shirt.  Thankful for the way he loves to bring me books to read to him.  Thankful that he likes to cuddle. 

Yes, I am thankful indeed.

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