Kyle insisted on helping Mike push the car out of Wal-Mart* today, and as he did, he stuck his hand in his back pocket, all by himself, OH SHIT COULD YOU JUST DIE?
He's two in less than two weeks and while my chest starts tightening if I think about it too much, I'm actually surprisingly not super emotional about it except for this one emotion: fucking happy. It's not lost on me how genuinely lucky we are to have this guy and to have him relatively healthy and happy. It's not lost on me how sweet and perfect and lovely my little family is.
The time flies by -- we all know that -- and sometimes it flies at such a rate that we're literally stunned by it. But, having an almost two-year-old really doesn't remind me how cruel time can be but, actually, how kind it is. Time gives us babies who become little boys (or girls) and at the end of the day, as I tuck this growing kid into his crib and start to think about transitioning him to a bed so his poor feet quit getting stuck in the slats I'm more stunned by how awesome he is today than how quickly that awesome came to be.
(Also, randomly, he had a virus late last week and over the weekend and at one point, he leaned against me, looked up at me and said, "hug me, mommy." I'm sorry but newborns never do that shit.)
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*We usually grocery shop for the bulk of our items at Wal-Mart because it makes Mike happy to save money even if it SUCKS OUT HIS WIFE'S SOUL.