I watch him, all legs and arms. He is tan and blonde. He speaks big words, is inherently bossy, and carries his brother around. He is loud and active. He is a bundle of emotions that sometimes are just too big for him to know what to do with. He is sensitive and caring, sweet and loving, daring and brave.
With an imagination bigger than the sky, he builds worlds, battles Vikings, and brings peace and justice to all.
He is too young for social anxiety, yet old enough to understand the pecking order. He senses my moods and does his best to adapt to them. He knows what buttons to push, how to make me angry, how to make me sad, but mostly, how to make me laugh.
He lives, breathes and dreams Legos. He loves his sisters and brother fiercely, they are, without a doubt, his best friends.
He no longer has that baby smell, but that of a big boy who needs to bathe everyday. He is growing up before my eyes and I want to stop it. But I don't.
I watch him comb his hair. It is like mine, standing up no matter how hard he tries to get it to stay down. While he is only 7, I envision him as a young man, getting ready for a date or a night out with his friends.
I wonder who he will be then? What will he be like? What will his dreams be then? What will he love? Who will he love? My heart swells as I know I will get to find out the answers to these questions.
I sit and watch and wonder while nursing his baby brother and it feels like just yesterday it was him I was nursing.
Time flies on wings of lightning. This is the truth.