He stumbles along holding my hand. I try to let go of one, see what will happen. He stops, waving his little arm around searching the air for my fingers.
He guides me here and he guides me there, seeming to be able to turn on a five-cent piece. When he reaches his destination he lets go of my hands, looks around perplexed about what to do next. He is shocked to be standing and not holding on.
It won't be long now before he figures out that he can stumble and run by himself without me. But for now we are both content with holding on.
He is a smiley little man. If someone smiles at him, he beams back at them. If someone takes the time to talk to him, he babbles and laughs.
Whenever he sees me lying down, he offers me his beloved monkey to cuddle and pats my shoulder.
Whenever I am sitting on the floor playing with him, usually blocks, balls or trucks he takes a moment every now and then to crawl over to me, climb up on my lap, lay his head on my shoulder and hug me. My heart melts.
It often melts when I am with this little man. My little man.
He loves to look at books and will thrust them into my face, grunting that he wants me to read it to him. If I am doing something else, he will take my face in his hands and move it towards the book.
He loves music. He dances at anything that plays music, the radio, a CD, a toy, a TV commercial. Bopping and bouncing along to the beat.
They love him at daycare, telling me constantly how he is their little gentleman, patiently waiting his turn and giving everyone big smiles.
He can be cranky when something doesn't go his way. He crawls to the wall, puts his head against it and cries. He has a high-pitched wail sometimes. I wonder what this wailing boy has done with my smiley one.
He follows his sister around the house wanting her attention. He cries at her bedroom door when she closes it in his face because she wants her own time.
My little man. I am sure he has been here before. He has a wise, old soul look in his beautiful big blue eyes. We have been so blessed to have him join our little family.
Do you have a little person?
What does she/he get up to?
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