Earlier today, I was preparing some food for Leo to eat throughout the week. I was painstakingly cutting sweet potatoes into petite cubes the perfect size for his little mouth and beginner's pincer grasp. As I did this I thought about how important it is to me to take good care of him and do everything I can to give him what he needs. And though he might take all that for granted right now, seeing his face light up when he sees me is all the thanks I need. Then I thought about how one day there is a good chance that, for some period of time at least, he won't even look up when I walk into the room - will begrudge me even asking how his day was.
If I get it right then I can hope this will be a short phase. Or if I'm really lucky, it will happen as a few separate events rather than a whole stage of life. But thinking about how I fold his tiny undershirts just so, how I'll gladly rock him in my arms at 3am for as long as he needs if he's having a tough night, how I'll stop whatever I'm doing and just soak it in if he rests his head on my shoulder left me with some thoughts for my own mother. Mom, for the whole of the past 31 years: thank you, I'm sorry, I love you, I get it.
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