This morning, I woke up to my son snuggling into me. I moved around and, despite my best efforts, roused him from a dream. He looked up at me and he smiled. It was early, the sun not yet commanding the sky, and I told him to go back to sleep. "Can I be your little cub?" he ...
It only took one year of trying! Exactly one year ago, I published this post entitled "I do not know how to toilet train my son." I swear that I wrote a follow-up post to the original, but I cannot seem to find it. I did, however, write a more recent post involving my son and the toilet, but ...
I sat down to write this message and the deluge started from my eyes before my fingers could touch the keyboard. I placed my hands on my heart. I don't know how to describe this feeling. Intense love mixed with incredulity mixed with wistfulness... and something else. But when you love someone this much, there isn't always a word. There ...
...your little girl sits on the floor of her brother's bedroom and reads, with finesse and ease, the very first book that was ever read to her. I thought that this was poignant but, my goodness. I feel wistful, and I feel proud but, most of all, I feel the magic.
I know that I am about a week late, but I felt compelled, just now, to share some of the things for which I am supremely thankful. I guess that, for me, it is a good lesson that we (I) should be more present in the now and therefore more grateful every day. Maybe not ...
The slide may have grown, and you may have grown, but you will always, always be my baby.
Today, I cried while slow dancing with my little girl. We were listening to a very special CD, For Our Children, and as we swayed back and forth to Carole King singing "Child of Mine", I began to cry. You see, I am getting a bit wistful, a tad sentimental, about this whole "My newborn baby is actually now one-whole-year-old ...
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