He’s spent many hours staring out our front windows over the last 2 years, watching the neighborhood kids run up and down the street.
He grew up with a longing to join them someday.
He can finally run. It’s finally cool enough to play outside in the evening.
He gathers his favorite toys- his musical instruments. He teeters down the steep driveway with them busting out of his arms. “Fwiends!” he shouts as he chases them back and forth. They aren’t mean, but they are on roller blades and playing tag, too big and fast and busy to be bothered by playing with a “baby.”
He lays his musical instruments out on the driveway when his arms get too tired of carrying them.
He watches them whiz by, hopeful each time one approaches.
Sad each time they pass by.
Oh, sweetheart. One day you will be able to join them. One day you will be so big that you will wear rollerblades and whiz past all the houses on the street in a flash. One day you will be big enough to look both ways before you cross the street by yourself and join the rest of your “fwiends” in a rowdy game of tag. One day you will join the big kids and play until the sun begins to set, and I will yell your name from the front porch to let you know it’s time for dinner.
But not today, baby. Today you are still small. Though you’ve done so much growing, you have so much left to do. And until then, when your feet can keep up and your legs can make strides big enough to run as fast as those big kids you so admire, I will be your playmate. I will sit here and play instruments with you… because I know my days are numbered. I know that one day entirely too soon you will be too fast for me, you will be too strong for me, you will be too big for me. So please, lets sit here and play. There will be time to be a big kid someday… soon.
Kendall is 2 years, 4 months old, and maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones, but I cried more writing this post than I ever remember crying writing any other.
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