Monday, July 22, 2013

More Sunshine

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

It's unbelievable really, watching a little person develop in front of your very eyes.  Progress is made each and every day.  Sometimes it is ever so slight and other days it seems to be happening in leaps and bounds.  Growing up is first measured in pounds and inches, then in milestones like rolling over and crawling.  Pretty soon it takes the form of emotional and verbal developments. Grunts turn into words and frustrations lead to tears.  Curiosity leads to bruises and success results in squeals of the most uninhibited joy known to man...or at least known to moms.

We are coming up on two years.  Two years of milestones, two years of tears, two years of grunts and words and bumps and bruises.  Two years of giggles and squeals.  Two years of shrieks and kicking and screaming.  Two years of hugs and kisses and more love than ever imaginable.  

You  make me happy when skies are gray


Our Little Monkey hates having his hair touched.  Hair washing, hair brushing, hair cutting leads to a face streaked with tears and screams so loud that a person on the street would wonder what the heck is going on in there.  He gets marshmallows for going potty on the big potty.  Fruit snacks may be the best  thing ever created in a lab somewhere.  Meals are hit and miss.  I'm convinced Chef Boyardee has never done a load of laundry.  Trains are delightful.  Tractors, trucks and anything big he can sit in bring smiles and endless requests to "sit on on".  

You'll never know Dear, how much I love you

He is starting to understand reason now.  But with the ability to reason comes the ability to manipulate. Calling for Dadda long enough may just get him back into the room.  Throwing fits sometimes works to his advantage.  But sometimes it just leaves him on the floor in a puddle of his own tears and once he realizes that, he usually moves on.  Two can play that game Little Monkey.

I used to think that it couldn't be that difficult to teach your child how to pick up after themselves, how to behave in a restaurant, how to stand still while Momma pays the lovely cashier.  I used to think, How hard can it be?  Of course this was all before I had one.  Too many times it is just easier to pick it up for him and to leave plates behind with fries left.  I keep telling myself there is plenty of time to really instill manners and patience.  But, he put his own shorts on the other day.  We've known he can take them off for awhile now, another one of his tricks to get us back into the room when he doesn't want to go to bed.  But, putting them on? Only big boys do that....certainly he can't be a big boy yet.  Can he?

Please don't take my sunshine away

Falling asleep in my arms happens so rarely anymore.  We rock and we read and we sing.  Then he points to the bed and leans in for his kiss.  I place him in his crib and tuck him in, Snug as a Bug in a Rug.  But on those rare occasions that he is sleepy enough to drift off and my lullaby fades to background music, I still look at him and my eyes well up with tears.  I cannot even believe that this little miracle has given my life more meaning in two years than nearly the 35 that I've lived.  My heart swells with pride and with love.  And before I can carefully lift him, with his eyes closed and his breathing relaxed, there comes the softest whisper, more sunshine.

Ok my Little Love, Momma will sing more sunshine.

You are my sunshine my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You'll never know Dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away