This cute little guy is obsessed with balls. Seriously obsessed!
Anything that is round qualifies as a ball, so he is excited pretty much everywhere we go. He looks around the chapel and points at the lights. "Ball! Ball! Ball!" Or the nobs on his dresser. "Ball!" Or the balloons in the grocery store. "Ball! Ball!" You get the idea.
The other night I was putting him to bed. I always sit in the rocking chair and sing to him for a bit. He likes to pull the neck of my shirt open so he can press his little cheek up against the skin of my chest. He was all snuggled up against me, settling down for the night- or so I thought. In the middle of my song he sat straight up and put his face right up in mine. "Ball! Ball! Ball!" he kept repeating, very excitedly. I had to giggle a little to my self, and I told him "Yes, honey. I know you love balls." Then he was content to rest his head back on my chest while I finished the song.
I wish there was something in my life that got me that excited every time the thought crossed my mind!
My inspiration for this record of my days:
“The biggest mistake I made [as a parent] is the one that most of us make. . . . I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of [my three children] sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less” -Anna Quindlen