It Really Does Fly.

Today it was a rainy, chilly fall day, so we decided to get creative and build a fort in the living room. 

Granted, it was a small fort, but it worked and Cub loved it. We sat under the sheet and read stories and sang songs. And tried coming up with a secret handshake, which was basically a series of high-fives! High-fives! High-fives!

I snapped his picture and couldn't believe how grown-up he looks these days.

He's such a handsome little boy, right?? :) Thankfully, his smile is still a cute chubby baby smile, but every now and then I'll catch a glance of him and my breath catches in my throat. Oh my gosh, where has the time gone? My little baby who used to sit and coo is now toddling around the house, laughing his amazing belly laugh, and cracking us up. He loves to point, play catch, and "talk" (I can understand "mama" "dadda" and "ball" ... the rest are a bit of a mystery!). He's learning to put his toys away and he's understanding what we tell him more and more. I just can't believe it.

Tonight at bedtime, I decided to read some books to him. I used to read to him before bedtime all the time, but now he's content with just a sippy cup and a song. But, tonight I was in the mood for a bedtime story, so I dug around in his book basket and found "On The Night You Were Born".

Oh boy. Go ahead and start the waterworks.

I haven't read this book to him in so long--it has thin paper pages and over time has been buried under cardboard books that better withstand unsteady (but very strong) little hands. I dusted it off, settled Cub in my lap, and, as is par, I was in tears by page three. But, I trudged on, clearing my throat and reading each page, pointing out the beautiful pictures to Cub. His little head was pushed up under my chin and his legs hung over my legs. My big boy, who was so tiny the last time I read this, was now sprawled in my lap, yawning and rubbing his eyes, as my mind wandered back to the night he was born. 

And I suddenly realized I was reading to my other baby, too. My Baby Bean who hasn't been born yet, but is already very much a part of our lives. 

And so the last few pages made me teary as I imagined the birth of our little Cub and the anticipation of the birth of Baby Bean next year. And it was a sweet moment that I won't be forgetting any time soon.

For never before in story or rhyme

(not even once upon a time)

has the world ever known a you, my friend,

and it never will, not ever again.

Heaven blew every trumpet

and played every horn

on the wonderful, marvelous

night you were born.