Little Boy,
When did you grow up? When did you cease to be my baby…let alone my toddler son? When did you shed those extra rolls on your thighs? When did you become my little boy?
Because that is what I see when I look at you these days. A little boy, not a toddler. You’ve got two skinned knees, a dirty face from kicking in the dust, and you are squatting, playing in the water I used to nourish the plants. It has seeped through the soil, and out the bottom onto the deck where you exclaim, “I’m getting my stickers all wet!”
I see you, little boy. I see you so desperately wanting to become independent yet still needing so much help and encouragement from me. I see you becoming confident at new skills and nervous to try others. I see you growing. Growing your own branch on our family tree. A branch more beautiful than I could have ever planned or anticipated.
You’re still only two so we’ve got a long ways to go. But I feel that time is just sand slipping through my fingers. You are already a little boy. How fast will the rest go?
For now, little boy, I will try to just enjoy those small moments between the rest of life. The ones where when I ask what you are thinking about, you reply, “I’m thinking I love you so much, Mommy.” The ones where we dance together, and the ones where you bring toys to your brother. And I’ll enjoy the moments when you are acting like a little boy: playing in the dirt, jumping off the couch, or shouting, “Daddy hit a grounder!” at the top of your lungs.
You are my little boy. And I love you very much.