Yesterday I felt a wave of sadness when I glanced at Reid and saw a baby, not a newborn. I really think I would pause time forever if I could. Of course that moment would not only include the tiny baby I want to hold on to and the wonderfully curious preschooler, it would also include endless diaper changes, a twenty minute procession to get to from the living room to the car, constantly saying, "give him a little space," and "one * two * if I get to three you are going to time out." But oh, his smiles and her darling commentary on life. I will truly, dearly miss this moment in time.
When my sister Katie was here she asked how often I felt those glowing, tears in my eyes, sentimental moments over my children and motherhood. It got me to thinking. My first reaction was that they don't actually happen that often, most of our days feel more stressful and frenzied than tender and maudlin. But then my mom asked how often I sit back and smile and think, "That's my kid!" That happens every day.
There are very few moments in my life that compare to listening to Mike bless the young one we are embarking on a journey to raise. It was again abundantly clear that there is one who knows our children perfectly and wants us to understand better who they are. And learning who Reid is from experience, impressions, and the blessing all indicate that we have a pretty wonderful kid on our hands.