While You're Two and a Half

While you’re 2 ½, I’ll hold your chubby, sticky hands. I’ll play with your damp, wavy hair while you sleep. I’ll watch you in wonder that you’re no longer a baby, but sometimes still so small.

While you’re 2 ½, I’ll read you the book 5 times in a row…I’ll always read it again. While you’re 2 ½  I’ll savor your sweet voice asking me “Mommy will you play with me?” I’ll cherish hearing your slowly fading-chubby cheeks asking, “Watch this, Mommy”

While you’re 2 ½, I’ll stand at your bedroom door, watching my baby boy become a big boy. I’ll stand in awe of the boy you’re becoming, but I’ll cling tightly to the memory of your newness in my arms.

I’ll cherish your “wisdom” about everything; I’ll even cherish your outlandish demands for sandwiches to be cut into squares, not triangles. I’ll soak up the joy in your eyes when you whisper about doughnuts.

I’ll wrap you in my arms every chance I get because I know you soon won’t want to be snuggled as much. I’ll kiss your stinky, still-chubby feet even if they’ve been running outside barefoot, because I know soon they won’t be so sweet.

While you’re 2 ½, I’ll take picture after picture of your ever-changing sweet face even if you tell me, “no”. I’ll lose myself in that ornery sparkle in your eyes as you tackle me or try to get out of trouble, because I know one day another woman will love that sparkle, too.

I’ll hold you close, spoil you, and indulge all your imaginings – I’ll let you wear your Halloween costume all day and all night if you want. All the while, watching you sleep on the monitor, wondering how my life ever felt complete before a little boy stole my heart.

While you’re 2 ½, I’ll secretly love having you sleep in our bed and snuggling as close to me as you can get, wrapping your arms around my neck, and waking me with your full-face smile, even if that smile is because you’re pretending to walk a spider on my head. I’ll cherish those hands that “cover my eyes” when I use hairspray, that pat my back when I’m holding you, that stroke my hair during nap time, and feed me some of your snacks.

I’ll cherish that little chair constantly pulled up to the kitchen counter to “watch” while I cook. I’ll indulge in dancing with you, running circles with you, and being told, “like this” when I dance the wrong way.

I’ll melt when I hear you pray, saying, “Thank you, God, for Mommy” and see you touch your nose to say, “I love you.”

While you’re 2 ½, I’ll cherish being this loved. I’ll savor your sweet, ornery, innocent, joyful love. Because I know, one day, you’ll have other people to love. But, for now, I’ll soak up this season of sticky fingers and chubby cheeks, joyful laughter and ornery eyes, and I’ll hold you as long as I can: while you’re 2 ½.