Outstretched arms reach for walls just beyond the touch of your straining fingertips. Making contact would only have slowed you down anyway. But solid, sweet hands flutter regardless, feeling the wind created by your own speed. Speed. You feel so fast, so free. An unquenchable squeal escapes as you turn your head to look over your shoulder. As usual, you are checking to make sure I am following your lead. Crinkled nose. Sparkling blue eyes. Open-mouthed grin. How could I possibly resist following?
Lifting my knees in a march-style run designed purely to make you laugh; I bend my elbows and pump my fisted hands in a matching rhythm. Just as I predicted, you find me irresistible. Turning mid-stride, it is only by some miraculous maneuver that keeps you from tumbling backwards as you launch your small, wriggling body at me. It's with a practiced reflex that lets me catch you midair and swing you above my head, laughing with you at your exuberance.
Bursting through the doorway together, we have completed the trek once more. This dance we do down the hall with you in lead, me at your heels. It is a ritual of sorts really. One perfected by the repetitive trips made daily to the bathroom at the end of the hall.
It's one of those mommy-moments I never forethought in my daydreams of baby-bearing and rearing and all that would entail. But it is a moment worth celebrating with each and every child born. YAY you! And it is no matter that together we visit that tiny room in our house countless times each day. Every time we do it means you are a big boy now, all grown up and big enough to use the potty on your own, EVERY time!
Just beautiful! This is so sweet!
ReplyDeleteThanks! I had a very sweet subject to write about. ;)
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