Tuesday, June 11, 2013
He is mine. And I am his.
You know what I'm especially grateful for? That even when I'm having a sad day, the kind of day where you wake up just feeling blue, there is that smile. And that laugh. And I know that no matter what mood I wake up in, what side of the bed I find myself on, Henry is waiting for me to come get him, to do all of our everyday things, breakfast and books and trucks and trains. And even when that bad mood still might not shake off right away, and I am snappy and impatient when he's trying to do things in his own time, he just looks at me with those big brown eyes with those long, dark lashes, understanding so much more than I give him credit for, and says "Mommy, are you okay? Here, let me get you my favorite alligator! That will cheer you up." And guess what? It always, always does. And that's what I'm thankful for. For this little sunshine beam of a boy, this child who I somehow have the privilege of calling my son, the sweet, spirited human I get to spend all of my time with. Thankful, grateful, in total, absolute awe that he is mine. And I am his.