finn and jane

Finn is so funny. How lucky am I that every morning when I walk into his room after listening to him talk to himself and after watching him on the monitor hug good morning to wink and stare at his fish mobile, he smiles and laughs at me. Every morning. He is so excited to see me and I am so excited to see him. It's almost too much to take.

I read a post by one of my favorite bloggers about how she imagined her son talking when he was a baby. She would always wonder what his voice sounds like and what he would say. Now that he is three he talks all the time. His most recent thing is when she puts him to bed and covers him up, as she's walking out of his room he quietly whispers "thank you so much". I love that story.

Finn is not talking but he is so funny. When he blows raspberries with those little lips and spit is trickling down his chin. Or when he sees the vacuum in the closet and gets so excited and scared at the same time he wants to crawl towards it but he also wants to cuddle in my arms. When he holds a toy over his high chair tray and I say "don't drop it" and he gets a mischievous look on his face and then throws it to the ground. Or when he sees his dada walk in the door after work and he gets to excited that he now does this inhale screaming thing. Or when he is done eating and I try and give him just one more spoonful and he turns his nose up and shakes his head side to side. Or when he wakes up after our afternoon nap together and he turns to me and his eyes are still focusing and then he realizes that I am right next to him, that we cuddled through his sleep and he smiles and closes his eyes at the same time. Or every single time I say something goofy and he smiles at me. It's all too much. There is a feeling that I feel for all of these moments, but I can't place the word. They're too sweet. He's too special. He's so funny. And he's mine.

I can't believe that either some days. It seems to hit me especially when I am driving for some reason. I'll be pulling up to a red light and I'll notice in my rear view mirror two little feet kicking in the backseat and I almost have to pull over to catch my breath because that little boy back there, that's MY baby.  My happy baby.