There are many moments when I feel like the oldest 26 year old I know. I call these "Jerry McGuire moments." I sit at home most weekends, alone, sulking that most of my friends without children are out on the town being young and spontaneous. Brainstorming ways I can afford a sitter so I can participate in said spontaneous adult activities. Sometimes feeling resentful that I ended up having a child solo, when I had so much youth left inside of me.
Then there are nights like tonight. Nights that involved me, little man, and a beach ball. We sat, hitting the ball back and forth. Occasionally I would spike the ball into his face (yeah, written down it sounds rather cruel...but trust me, we had a blast). His laugh is intoxicating. His laugh makes me realize I'm blessed to have him in my life.
After tonight, I've realized I need to focus more energy on being a better mom. That darn laughing little man is worth every ounce of effort.
2 days ago