Hubby and I roamed all over, lived in tons of houses and apartments, and embarking on the parenting journey has given us solid roots in our adult life. It's not just something we do, a title we hold, but a lifestyle and an identity---a sacred trust from God--to care for our son and daughter. It's sometimes daunting, challenging, sometimes a sliver of insanity peppered with joy.
Tomorrow this guy has his 3rd birthday party. UNREAL. Our little toddler is now a tall preschooler, towering over the little shorties in his age group, lovin' Thomas and baseball, painting and bath time, running down hills and bubbles (always bubbles).
Where did you go, sweet cherub-faced boy?
He's so polite, kind, and thoughtful. The world will steal his innocence soon, but we hope to give him something better--integrity, grit, patience, perseverance, steadfastness, loyalty, and ultimately, holiness. The world cannot take that away; it will only sharpen him.
He had his first overnight with Nana and Poppy last night. Hubby and I missed him more than we thought possible--I even checked his room late into the night, like I usually do, and my heart skipped a beat when he wasn't in his bed. (Mini heart attack, until I realized he was safe and sound with his grandparents!) When he came home this morning, Thomas hat sitting helter-skelter on his crazy hair and sleeping bag tucked under his arm, he gave me a wide, sleepy grin and said, "Mommy! Don't cry, I'm here! I'm back!"
But later I did cry, maybe for a minute or two, when he was finally napping next to Buzz Lightyear and a few matchbox cars.
He won't be 3 for long. I wish I could hold him, tightly, forever.
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