Years and years ago, a friend commented to me that she and her husband were always asking themselves if their youngest was just exceptionally cute, or if they'd always been too busy with the baby to notice how wonderful the two-year-old was. Matthew DEFINITELY has his share of ohmygoshicantevenwiththetoddler moments (how can one tiny person be so destructive and muddy? Although it is pretty funny when we look outside and he's running through the snow in slippers while chasing the cat with a pair of tongs...)
But more often than not, our days together are packed with moments where I just love him so much it feels like my heart is constricting and squeezing and I get a giant lump in my throat. Lots and lots of those today--watching him run at full speed up the driveway after "just checkie the mail," hearing his voice go soooo high-pitched in the car when he asked if we could just "peeeeeez peeeeez go dah park" on our way home from the grocery store, watching him make conversation with the cashier, laughing at his cute little snack setup in his car cart...
That bedraggled cat is his beloved "Maow-maow." Do we have 3 other identical cats because we are not fools and this is not our first rodeo? Yes. Are two of them still soft and fluffy and therefore completely unacceptable? Yes. Is the third equally bedraggled but hidden in a place in our home known only to Matthew? Also yes.
Showing me his bunny handstamps after library storytime this morning...
Storytime is so popular at our library that you have to get tickets in order to get in. We got there about twenty minutes early and Matthew held the tickets the entire time we were waiting, and ever so carefully transferred them from hand to hand whenever he needed to switch up what he was doing. Oh my heart. The days are long but the years are so, so, so short (did I mention that we are on week 2 of his big boy bed?!!!).
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