I have to say something. It’s nothing that others before me haven’t said more eloquently. But still, whether for posterity, or for the desperate hope that someday Evan will stumble across what I’ve written when he’s old enough to understand it, I need to get this off my chest.
It is simply this: having a child is the best thing I’ve ever done. I never imagined that watching him grow up would be nearly the delight that it is. The funny things he says, the faces he makes, the huge personality emerging from his tiny body – all of it is more than I expected or could have hoped for.
This weekend, he became even more a little person. He’s always quick to demonstrate his feelings about things. Pancakes? Cars? Trains? Balls? All good. And conversely, we all know how he feels about riding in the stroller. (um, not good.) Then last night, I gave him a bath. When it was time to drain the tub I said “OK, time to get out!” He looked at me and said “Bye tubby!” then followed it up with a question, recognizing what always follows his bath: “Diaper?”
Something about the fact that he gets it, that he understands the order of things, that his brain has developed to the point where he knows what’s coming next, just pushed me over the edge. It’s not that I think he’s more intelligent than all other kids (ok, part of me does think that), but it just seems unbelievable that this baby, this once-helpless being, is now a real person who talks and understands and communicates.
I thought my heart would break, but instead it just spilled out in the form of hot joyful tears that I was powerless to stop. And I was so, so thankful.