Caleb put James to bed and helped him through his nightly routine. A little while later I hear some tinkering noises coming from the room we call Ada's room. At this time the room is filled with all of the stuff belonging to the house and Caleb's grandparents before we moved in. I walk into this room very quietly as to not make my appearance known. I stand there for a good couple minutes watching this little boy in red Lightning McQueen pajamas, sitting on his knees with a small box on the floor in front of him. He carefully pulls out all of the contents of the box examining each item carefully before setting it in a pile along side his folded legs. The pile consists mostly of collector U.S. State spoons and other miscellaneous utensils.
"Finding anything good?" I say standing about two feet away from him.
"Hi!" He says surprised.
"We can't be in here playing with this stuff, it's not ours. You need to go back to bed little mister."
"You read book me?"
"Dad already read you a bunch of books and it's getting late. I will lay with you for a little bit though.
"Thank you mom." He says sweetly.
We jump up into his bed and I try cuddling him and he removes my arm from him since it is getting in the way of lining his four cars up.
I start really looking at him and realize what a cute age he is at. He is such a smart, sweet (most of the time) boy. What a great age.
"James, I want you to stay this size forever. I don't want you to get any bigger... EVER!" Do you really have to get older?" While saying this I feel tears making their way to the corner of my eyes.
"Yes. Get bigger. Get bigger bigger bigger. I want bigger bigger muscles." As he says this he starts to get teary, as if I am saying he can't get bigger.
This makes me more teary. Realizing how, I am sure most moms feel though out their child's childhood, an ever going battle of mom wanting kid to stay little forever and the kid wanting to grow up way to fast.
"No, you will get bigger - really bigger!"
"Oh OK, thanks mom. Play with your hair?"
I unravel my hair out the messy bun that lay rested on the top of my head and roll over with my back facing him. He starts twisting my hair with his fingers. I start blubbering like a flipping baby. To top it off as he plays with my hair, he starts singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I mean, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
I mean seriously, I can't allow him to get bigger bigger when he is so stinking cute, and does things like this.
These are the days.
I just hope I am lucky enough to be able to say those words through out the rest of my life.