It's one of my favorite times with my handsome little trouble maker. He no longer lets me help him up on this chair (which scares the daylights out of me). He drinks my water. He eats his snack and tells me stories and about his day. I look at him and see my baby. I look at him and see a boy. I pause. Time slows down for a couple minutes while he munches his granola balls. Wasn't I just holding him in my arms, naming him, telling him we had waited so long for him? Telling him all the dreams I had? Who fast forwarded the time and how do I get some back? Snack time. We chat. He lets me kiss him, at least once, before he tells me to stop. Before he climbs down the chair, unassisted of course, and off into the world to play. My baby. My boy. My miracle.
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