I sat and watched you play this morning as the morning light poured in through the family room window and painted a glow around your bare naked body. Frustrated that the phone you were playing with closed shut (it’s a flip phone, something you’ll probably describe as ancient in ten years), you looked toward me with furrowed eyebrows and mouth open in disarray. I flipped it back open and you kept playing.
It’s summer and the days have been reaching the triple digits. We’ve been running the air conditioner even at night and despite the all-encompassing heat outside, it’s comfortable – if not cold – inside. So, before your morning nap, I put a shirt on you.
Today, I chose a green one with a dinosaur on it. It was neatly folded in your drawer, waiting to be chosen as it sat on top of all the others. It’s the first time you’ve worn this shirt. I moved it from your brother’s drawer, straight to your drawer, just a few days ago.
And that’s how life has been as of late — fast.
You turned one yesterday and I love you like you could never believe.