I find myself wishing I could just freeze luke at this stage of life. he says such funny things, and I love watching the wheels inside his head turn as he thinks. there are lots of little things I want to remember when I'm old and grey in a nursing home. I just wish I could bottle this 2 years and 11 months up and save it forever.
I want to remember how he makes his little sister laugh like no one else can.
I want to remember how he always needs to be a "greaaaaaaaaaat holper!".
I want to remember the way he has to hold my hand, my ear, my hair as he falls asleep.
I want to remember how meticulous he is with his trains. He creates the "biiiiig express!" and he presents it to you complete with hand flourishes. "coming frough!"
I want to remember what a pain in the rear he is to grocery shop with because I never know when he will decide to "run riddy fast!" down the next aisle.
I want to remember the way he checks "cars over here? no. over dere? no! yet's go cross a road!" on our way to the park.
I want to remember the way he insists on "I hold elsie!" each time I load/unload them from the car. I started asking him to hold on to the side of the car while I put Elsie in/out so I knew he'd be safe. He thinks it means that he needs to hold the car still so that Elsie will be safe. He takes this job very seriously. He will stand for longer out in the "creezing cold!" instead of climbing in the warm car to make sure she's safe.
I want to remember how any injustice can be remedied with kiss or a bandaid. Sometimes both.
I want to remember how anyone he meets is his new best buddy, and how sad he is when his fwends leave.
I want to remember the songs he makes up, "Jesus and meary and jofus. and angel and Jesus iiiinnnnn aaaaaa staaaaaable."
I want to remember that, each morning, he tells us he dreamed about Jesus and Mary.
I want to remember how he loves to play "move the dirt" with his trucks. He fills them up with nuts and pushes them around a table, from truck to truck.
I want to remember how proud he is after he goes potty by himself. And how, after he poops in his diaper, and I remind him about pooping in the potty, he dismisses my comments with a wave of his and a "I knowwww. two choclits, I poop in a potty".
I want to remember how he sometimes makes messes just so he can "cwean up, edderbody, edderwhere!"
I want to remember how he sometimes insists on calling us "Rach" and "trabis"
I want to remember how he loves to play "break the pee-ko (pickle)? tick-o tick-o!"'
I want to remember the twenty five minute tantrum we had this morning because he wanted me to put the bite of waffle in his mouth. One day I won't be able to make him breakfast.
I want to remember how he is everyone's biggest cheerleader. He caught you using the bathroom? Hoorayy! He sees Papa shoveling the driveway? Keep going, doing great job! Elsie is trying to stand up? come on sweet gorl! you can do it, sweet!
What I want to remember most of all is just him. Luke, aged two years, 11 months. How his warm little hands sneak into mine. His soft hair that still smells like Johnson's baby wash. His crazy laugh and his great big belly laugh. His little voice calling my name, and his feet thundering across the floors. The dirt, the noise, the tantrums. This boy, all mine. don't grow up, kid.