Holidays. That's when it hits me the hardest.
Holidays as I watch you sprint in the backyard. The same backyard that used to swallow your tiny body. You now own that backyard. That backyard belongs to your 32 pound rock solid still somewhat tiny body.
Holidays. That's when I know another year has passed. I can picture your tiny one-year-old self barely walking, not yet talking. And here you are two...TWO. Here you are chasing Johnny and actually catching him. Here you are still pointing at planes, but now telling me their color. Here you are reaching up for me occasionally saying "I hold you, mommy. I hold you." Here you are...pushing trucks, catching bugs, digging in dirt and looking at me and offering an unsolicited: "I love you."
Holidays. That's when I know another year has passed. That's when I know time is as precious as I always believed it to be, but this time...this time with you is that kind of precious multiplied.
Happy 4th of July, my sweet curious, inquisitive, loving tiny little two-year-old. May we celebrate many many many more to come.
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