Because all his stunts are about to do me in. Flour, baby powder, playing in the sink, getting himself naked, jumping off everything, embarrassing me in the doctor’s office, stealing anything that belongs to anyone, “loving” on the dog, deciding that it’s time to potty-train (doesn’t he know I’m not one to rush these things). Oh my, I’m tired.
But then I look at this face. And I kiss those lips as I carry him sleeping to his bed at night. And I listen to his songs he makes up. And watch him say “I’m sorry” before being told to. And see that little open-mouthed surprised smirk when he gets caught. And hear him say to the other bigger kids, “Here I come, guys!” And I melt. And I find the strength for another day. And even sometimes the laughter to carry me through this one.
