The little man is growing up. Sometimes it takes me by surprise. As his imagination takes flight, so do his demands for independence. From refusing to wear certain clothes, to asking for specific toys to take to bed with him, he is becoming more aware of himself and his possessions. And sometimes that means tears when we leave a shop without something that he thinks should be his. Other times he gets an unexpected present and plays with it for days. Like this helmet the couple working at the op-shop gave him. He has been counting into the microphone, then sets off running. "One, two, one, GO!"
But as much as he is growing, he is still my little boy. The same little boy who still wants to fall back asleep laying in my arms when he has woken up too early from a nap. Little arm flung across my neck. Soft breath in my ear. Laying curled up beside me. And no matter how much he grows, my arms will always be open.