|3 1/2 and trying to fill some big shoes|
Allow me to gush for a minute.
Matthan is a special kid. I know every parent says that, but there is something about him. He charms the world. He made people smile starting from when he was a tiny baby. He delights in the world and takes joy in all the little (and big) things, and I have yet to meet someone who has not been sucked in by the delight that radiates from him. We giggle at him sometimes because when he walks he occasionally jumps as if the joyful energy builds up and has to be let out somehow.
He has a tender heart. He is sensitive to peoples' emotions, especially mine, and he piles on the charm if anyone is crying.
He can read. Like 150 words. I lost count a long time ago. He reads my texts over my shoulder.
He loves to make his sister laugh. But I think I'm his favorite person to make laugh.
Today he climbed all over the hill in the back yard picking up trash for me that blows into our yard when it storms. The yard doesn't seem big or treacherous until I see his little 3 yr old body hiking through it. He fell down or got stuck several times and hollered out to me. But he didn't want help. He got really stuck once and couldn't find a way back down the hill to me. And he sounded panicked. I asked him if he wanted me to come get him, or if he wanted to figure it out by himself.
He said he wanted to figure it out by himself.
He did not get this trait from me.
As a mom, my instinct is to jump in and help or take over. And I still do sometimes (because he's 3), but I try to hold back as much as I can. And I'm equally proud that my little boy is growing up and equally sad that my little boy is growing up.
And he wants to do it himself, but he wants to know that I'm there.