Ziggy and I went to the community center to play today -- he rode bikes and scooters, played hide and seek with friends, climbed the playground structure outside, and we did group bowling and ladder ball in the gym. It was the first time he'd been able to play with kids in a week since he got sick AGAIN with a nasty viral bug, and then the super gross bacterial conjunctivitis. He was thrilled.
We got home. I made lunch. He wanted to eat it alone in his room while listening to music (They Might Be Giants Sing the ABCs), to have, "big boy time." I brought him some yogurt and he told me, while crouching down to point at the floor "The carpet you bought me will get too dirty with yogurt in here." I agreed and departed with it, and gave him his turkey and cheese sandwich instead. He brought three quarters of uneaten sandwich back to me and said he was done, but that he still wanted to listen to music before having his nap. I told him he could have a few more minutes, but noted that his lids were heavy and he was running out of steam.
A few minutes ago, I went to his room and found him like this on his toybox. (Mine and my siblings' when we were children!) Underneath him was his thermos and his nightlight star turtle. The music was still going....
I couldn't help but take these snaps, then took off his shoes and tucked him into bed.
Can you believe how LONG he is? He just seems GIGANTIC to me sometimes. And I'm just bowled over, again and again, by the incredible love I feel for him, and how delighted I am that this amazing soul has come to live with us to teach us so much and to let us learn how to love and be loved better and he just blows me away.
And then I think about how other parents feel this way. And it astounds me -- the power of that.