January 2011

Early this morning Rachel brought Sam in to the bedroom to hang out, as she often does. It took me a little longer to wake up this morning and get out of bed. It was a late night at the office last night.

We cuddled, wrestled around, tickled, played. He still can’t crawl but he somehow manages to roll and wiggle around to his desired spot. He was rockin’ some stylish jammies that his mother recently got him. He had wide smiles and lots of energy.

He’s starting to reach for me more. Sometimes it’s him reaching because he wants me to hold him or play. But when he’s real close, like this morning, it’s different. He’ll grab my nose (and stick his fingers up there). He’ll grab my lips, or my tongue if i’m sticking it out and teasing. He’ll grab my ears or hair. He’ll try to pull my eyeballs out. He’ll feel my prickly facial hair.

I love to feel his touch.

It’s new. It’s different. It’s not me reaching for him, as it’s always been. It’s him reaching for me.

I hope this is just the beginning of many years of him reaching out to me. I hope he always feels like he can come to me, approach me, talk to me, trust me, and know that I am there for him. I hope he always knows and feels that no matter what, I love him.

I walked to work today thinking that it was all down hill from there. I love work and I love my typical day. But few things can compete or match what I had just experienced.

The little guy is growing up. He’s becoming more and more like a little boy. It’s beautiful to see. It’s a miracle.