And had a hard time comprehending just what those two little lines meant.
How much was going to change.
There was a lot I didn’t know.
Like morning sickness sometimes lasts longer than the first trimester.
That the not sleeping starts long before delivery.
That deliveries rarely go as planned.
That 8 lbs and 1 once is more than big enough to grow my heart in imeasureable ways.
And the years are sneaking by.
Six of them.
Most of the time faster than I’d like.
And five was a big year.
Because not only did you learn to read and add and subtract but you learned how to build almost everything out of legos, how to tell time by something other than episodes of Diego, how it feels to score goals, how to put your own straw in your juicebox, that you better hide your candy or toys from your sister or be expected to share, how to do the running man and moon walk, that bad days don’t make for a bad kid, how to sleep in, how to feed the dog and clean your room and all kinds of other things that you can now do with out me.
And that is what I want.
A boy who will one day be a man.
Who hopefully will be able to tie his own shoes and buckle his own seatbelt and say he is sorry and love as big as your smile.
But not just yet.
For now, I’m still hoping you will let me carry you to bed. And hold your hand in the parking lot. And point me to your friends when I come to your school.
At least for another year.
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