Stay This Little

We are picking out what to bring in for his first show and tell. The topic is all about me and he’s supposed to bring in 5 items that are special to him. We spent a lot of the weekend debating items to bring. And a lot more of the weekend with me explaining “No, you can’t bring 3 Batman toys” and “Are you sure that magnet is really special to you”.  It took a lot but he got it down to 5 items that are special to him: his Mickey Mouse, his blankie, a picture of him and Jake (from Jake and the Neverland Pirates) in Disney, his Joker van and Snuggle Puppy.

After all the items have been put by the door for the big day, Jack comes rushing into the kitchen. “Mom isn’t that picture of Jake and I the coolest, cause I’m dressed up at Jake and Jake is dressed as Jake and there are two Jakes”.

And I wrap my arms around him, wanting to hold every bit of that sweet, little, innocent boy in him. Because I know if a few years bringing Mickey and blankie to school won’t be cool, it will be grounds for being made fun of. And that picture of Jake that he loves now, will just be a memory. And the book that Mommy and him read together, will soon sit permanently on a shelf.

Four has been a pretty magical year, everything is real and fun and nothing has been tainted. He isn’t too big or too cool for things. He loves spending time with Mom and Dad. His imagination runs wild and his days are filled with play. He’s sweet and kind and loving. There is such a wonderful innocence about him and I want it to last as long as possible.

Even though it is a cliché, it really does go so fast. And I find myself clinging to these moments of sweet innocence. So when he asks me to lay with him at bedtime, I’m saying yes and when he asks for extra hugs and cuddles, I stop what I’m doing and wrap my arms around him. I want him to stay this little, this innocent, just a little bit longer. I want to savor all these little moments before they are just a memory.