My little boy- the one who gave me horrible heartburn, forced me on a couch for two months, knows four different ways to say "bye", let his molars break through, and has the squishiest, sweetest little body to have ever lived - he has no fear.
When I showed Maxwell the view from our hotel room last Thursday, he started squirming and kept squirming until his chubby feet hit warm sand. And once those babylicious feet hit the sand? He started running, all the way into a standing pool... even though he was dressed for the day since we were going for a walk, not a swim.
Ah! This baby has taught me so much the past fifteen months. He is so loving, sweet, and wonderful. He is ridiculously determined and absolutely hilarious when he feels goofy and I often find myself laughing with him on the floor for no reason at all. I love that! I love being a mom and I love learning from him. I won't say he teaches me more than I teach him unless "abigaboo" is a secret Ancient Egyptian code, but he has opened up my eyes so much and taught me so much about joy and complete love. I love how much he loves learning new things, I love the look of pure joy that comes across his face when he's happy, I love his sweet little giggles, and I love how open he is to new adventures and experiences...
Even though it means that, sometimes, I have to chase him into the ocean and pull him out when he's knocked down face first into the water by an incoming wave.
But, really, what else are moms for?