"Ooooooh!" I hear him exclaim in that sweet little voice. I've been listening to him talk all morning. Just jabbering away in his own little way about Cars and blueberries, Max and Ruby, Jenna, and other various ramblings and phrases. It brings a smile to my face along with a twinge of pain in my heart.
He's growing up.
I realize it won't be long before that little voice will lose it's baby pitch and begin to grow deeper. Before I know it he will learn sentence structure and won't get excited about Max and Ruby. Time will fly by and he might not talk incessantly about Dora and Boots. One day soon he won't call his colors "pee-po, bwoo, yay-yo, wed, and gyeen."
He's my baby.
So I savor these memories. Write them down for him to read some day. Write them down so that I don't forget, as I am inclined to do. Write them down with hope that one day his children and grandchildren and, maybe, even his great-grandchildren will be able to read all about what a charming, delightful, joy and blessing he was in our lives.
Thank you Lord for this beautiful boy. May I always remember what a treasure he is and to give him the time and love, most of all love, that he deserves.