One. Watching from beneath a shade tree my son and his new friend as they played tag and kicked a ball back and forth and climbed a thick brick ledge one behind the other- and the sheer sadness at saying goodbye. Thank God for little boys and the squirrels to be chased that ease aforementioned sadness faster than words ever can.
Two. After a day of discovering circles on buttons, and cookies, stickers and the eyes of his favorite stuffed animal, he is deeply intimate with circles. He draws them on his easel. He says the word. This morning he was not aware of what a circle was. I'm a teacher. I'm used to bringing new knowledge to young children but maybe its because I met my son when he wasn't aware he had hands, and now I watch him painting circles with those same hands on his easel, that this moment of teaching feels different.
Three. No matter the crank-o-meter of the day, after bath-time but before bed-time is the sacred moment, when he, without fail leaps into my arms hugging and kissing me and telling me he loves me. I can be in the middle of a horrible day but those cuddles are manna from heaven and they transform every emotion in that moment into simply that of peace. Trite, and yet, the absolute truth. If only scientists could discover the secret power in this exchange, bottle it up, and heal the world.
He's twenty-five months old today. More a boy with each passing day. It's beautiful. It's fleeting. Thankful I realize it so I can savor it like lemonade on a hot day. Hope you had a beautiful Thursday as well.