He used to call me mommy. Not too long ago. But now I am mom.
He's growing up. Too fast.
The nurses called him peanut when he was born. All 4 pounds, 15 ounces of him.
Tiny. My small hand almost covered his entire back.
I rocked him for hours when he was little. Hours.
He wanted to be held all the time.
Now he is four (and almost a half.)
He runs and jumps and dances and sings and makes too much noise some days.
He holds my hand and gives me kisses.
He comes and gets me almost every night. Which drives me crazy, but also secretly makes me happy that he still needs me. Some day he won't need me much, if at all.
Because of you, Max, I am mom.
Thank you for that gift.