As I chased my almost two-year old at the park yesterday I thought about how pure and good he was.
His little heart bursts at the seams when he sees his dad at the end of the day. He doesn’t care that he wears shoes without a brand name or that his Mommy dressed him in black pants and a blue shirt because the lighting in his room is horrible. He is so purely happy and content with life.
Everything is so new and exciting to him. He hears birds and airplanes when our adult ears are muted by life. He hides cantaloupe under the carpet and gets incredibly amused when I unearth it. He loves his brother with an affection I didn’t know his toddler-heart was capable of.
And as we ran around in circles, hiding behind the slide, collecting acorns, and stomping on our shadows I knew, in my heart of hearts, that being his Mom (and Hudson’s, of course) was what I was truly intended for.