A little soundtrack for you.
I've been feeling a little sentimental about you lately.
I think it's because you're just pure joy these days. That happy little dance you do when I pick you up in the morning and the sloppy, open-mouthed kisses you like to give at bedtime and everything else you do in between. It's too much.
And then I've been watching the Olympics after you go to bed and I see these people - these kids - doing something so amazing and I think, that's somebody's Baby Jack. What will you do that will make me cry with pride? It's too much, I said.
You've given me so much in your short life. Your dad and I are those parents who lie in bed and talk about how great you are. We trade stories and laugh and feel thankful. We wonder who you'll be in a year, five years, twenty years and then we sit quietly with our thoughts, each of us picturing a grown-up you.
I want you to be kind and thoughtful and respectable, okay? Like your dad.
I guess all of this is just to say thank you. You've rescued me and healed me and made me better.
So, thank you.