I love this time of your life. I wanted to write a few things down so that I can smile about them later.
- Your love of bubbles is adorable. You chase and catch them, and it’s a great way for us to put your energy to good use. The other day, our neighbor came out with his dog, and you said, “You catch bubbles,” to him. And he did. Your enthusiasm for those soapy spheres is truly contagious. And magical.
- When you try to avoid doing anything that we want you to do, you run over to the couch and stand on your head in the corner of it. It makes you pretty easy to catch, and as an added bonus, exposes your belly for chomping or tickles. Perhaps you’re not really trying to run away as much as you’re just excited about the game of this.
- You are such good company. I went with you to Panera for Mother’s Day, just like we did last year. This year, you held up your end of the conversation, observing so much about the place we were, expressing your extreme adoration for bean soup, and politely asking for more of Mommy’s juice.
- I love how a glass of milk makes everything better. Now that “snuggles” are no longer an option, it seems that the comforting qualities remain even if the container in which they come has changed.
- You love music and you love to dance. You love it when your parents dance with you, and it doesn’t matter if it’s the intro music to Curious George or Daddy’s Pandora radio station. I wonder where you get it from… Grandma M, I’m looking at you (because that’s where I got it from).
- Your big game lately is “tackle Mommy.” You take a pillow and just run at me sitting on the floor. If I don’t give in and fall over with the force of your small body, you push until I do. This is what it is to raise a boy. Physical. A little competitive. Most of the time, I do finally fall, because when I do, I get hugs, sometimes kisses, but always a whole lot of laughter. And your laugh is one of the best sounds I know.
- Your words and thoughts are getting more and more complex. We’ve gone from, “Peel,” to “Mommy peel banana,” to “Mommy peel banana Michael’s,” to “Mommy, peel Michael’s banana please.” It’s fascinating to see you learning how to articulate your observations and desires. When we go out, you notice signs everywhere. You point them out and tell me that they say, “I am Sam.” When you notice an empty post, you say, “Hey, be a sign there,” because the post is missing its sign. When we’re driving around in our car with all the windows down because the air conditioning doesn’t work, I’ll ask you if you like the wind or if you want me to close your window. You smile really big and tell me that you like the wind and make attempts to trap it in your clapped hands.
- I love how you look when you eat an apple. You don’t want it cut up anymore, and it’s one of those foods that looks like so much more than a little guy like you should be able to handle. But you can, and you do. It takes time, but you can polish off a whole apple all by yourself along with a sandwich and pickles or whatever else you have on your lunch plate that day. No wonder you’re so tall and strong and smart.
- You are extremely sensitive to others’ moods. Much like your mommy. When your parents get frustrated, sad, upset (for many reasons related to life and the world in general) or on a rare occasion mad at you for something you did, you insist that “Mommy really happy.” Because that’s how you want us to feel. I’ve been trying to tell you that we don’t always need to be happy. That sometimes, sadness or frustration is just what we feel at any given time. That just telling me to be happy won’t always work. Just like I can’t tell you what to feel or when to feel it. Sometimes, though, when you tell me to be really happy, it does stop me in my tracks and make me think about what I’m really feeling and why. I hope that we will continue to have a free exchange of emotion in our household, and that you always feel safe to feel whatever you feel, knowing that I love you even when I’m not acting or feeling as really happy as you think I should. I’m always happy to have you in my life, in my arms, in my family.
Love you big,