One {Beautiful} Afternoon

I wish I could somehow capture a priceless afternoon scene. The ones where words can't say enough. Where grabbing a camera would ruin the moment. Where you wish, somehow, you could literally capture it in a bottle and bring it out any time you ever wanted to for the rest of your life.

The way his legs bounce up and down and his hips and arms twist in opposite directions as he runs. Nearly escaping injury with every step.

Freely.

No holding back.

He runs so fast down the hill filling the entire sky with laughter, nearly tumbling over his own feet. 

Then he smiles back up at me. That grin where he blue eyes glisten with pride and my eyes well up with tears.

It's the complete abandonment at he flies down the slide at 100mph. Okay, his feet practically reach the end of the slide, but when a little person slides -- they slide! 

The sheer amount of energy it takes to propel himself onto that plastic swing. How careless he swings back and forth begging, "Higher, mommy, higher!" and I tell him, "You are going SO high! You are almost to the sky!" (even though he's barely left the ground). How he flings himself off when he decides that second he is "all done." 

The race to the rocks to find the perfect one. Examining each and every one as if we have stumbled upon a pot of gold. "Look, mommy. This one has stripes." "This one dirty." "This one ucky." "This one so pretty." "This one hot. Sun made it hot." "This one cold. Wind made it cold."

Did I mention his love for the weather? Future meteorologist for sure. '

"It very nice out today. Nice night for a walk. Little bit windy. Kinda chilly. See some clouds today. Very bright today." Who needs weather bug with this kid around?

And of course -- "I need find one for daddy!" We save it in a special place. 

I remind him rocks can't go in the grass because daddy might mow over them. He finds a spot in the grass and reminds me that, "Daddy not mow right here." 

And then - oh - it caught his eye. That bright red leaf skimming, hopping, leaping across the driveway. "ooh! Ahh! Get it, mommy!" he hollers as he skips after it ... always reaching down just as it hops away again. Collecting all the pretty ones in his bucket - frantic when one escapes. 

Ohh.. and what's the coming down the street? BIG. YELLOW. BUS. He immediately loses focus and sprints to his "spot" in the driveway. Doesn't everyone have a school bus watching post? "Mommy sit! Right here!" The questions begin. "Where's Lainy? What those kids doing? Hope bus doesn't hit that car." And then the drier waves. You would think Thomas the tank engine himself just greeted Trice, but no - just that old man whose been driving a bus for 50 years giving a simple wave. His day is made. He begins dreaming of riding the bus and going to school and wearing his "bap pack someday when he's bigger". I blink and suddenly I'm sitting on the front porch waiting for him to get off and missing the days we sat there together waiting for that old yellow bus. Then I cry. Probably the 900th time today, but who is keeping count?

It's back to the backyard - one foot on the slide, the other extended into an arabasque (future ballerina? Yes, please). He looks up at me with that sneaky grin and says, "Why I do this, mom?" which is always code for, "I know this isn't safe or allowed, but I'm doing it anyway." Today I let my overprotective guard down. He won't fall too far. It won't hurt too bad. Just let him be - let him climb, run, jump, and (gasp) fall down. (After all - I DO love kissing boo boos!)

It's time to go back inside. He slowly walks to the steps reminding me, "I do it myself." He won't hold onto the railing. This time I won't even make him. Each step - left foot, right foot. Pause. Left foot, right foot. Pause. Those steps seem HUGE. Mastering each one is a giant victory.

Once supper is ready, he flings himself over the chair and bows his head to pray. "Thank you Jesus for our food." The next 20 minutes are chaotic. Spoons in our milk cup, napkins flying across the kitchen, applesauce from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, too many requests to keep count - because shouldn't mom have known if he has a blue bowl, blue fork, and blue plate then he MUST have the blue cup? No, we don't care that it's dirty.

And then we chat. I love those dinner time chats. So much happiness in the midst of flying peas and spitting. He says something about friends and I ask, "Who are your friends?" Those teeth peek out again - "YOU, mommy!" ... "and daddy and God and Jesus!" Tears again. 

All I can think is -- I want to be him. He's not giving a single thought to the EBOLA crisis in Africa. He's not worried about what we're going to wear to family pictures on Saturday. He's not trying to decide what to cook for supper. He doesn't care about the dirty dishes that seem to be creeping onto every counter space. That pile of clothes all over mommy's bedroom that just don't ever get put away? No big deal. As long as there's still room to read his Bible in mommy's bed every morning, he's a happy camper. His life is full of pure joy (except for that hour after bed time which always seems pretty brutal). He's so incredibly loved. He's so incredibly safe. Nothing can stop him.

My heart is so full and it's only been a few hours. Just a tiny glimpse into this giant picture of this season of my life. When the days often run together and there's never enough time and the clock never stops ticking, but really something SO beautiful is happening in front of my eyes. This is everything I ever dreamt of. It's not perfect; it's often not easy. It requires so much more patience and energy than I'll ever have. Still I tuck it all in my heart pocket and promise myself to remember these moments ... forever. These are the afternoons that make my life complete.

I have so many dreams in my heart for this little boy. So many things I want him to do and experience. More than anything - I want him to ALWAYS know how special he is and how much he is loved by his mommy, daddy, and God (and many others, of course.) But for now - I just dream of this. These afternoons. These moments that may seem like nothing to anyone else, but to me - there is nothing greater. This is my dream come true. This is the beat of my heart.