magic

Dear sweet Owie boy,

You are growing before my very eyes. You're kind of at a magical stage because all day I think about how long your feet are and how much your brain knows. And then I check on you at night and look at your pudgy cheek smashed on the pillow and the creases in your neck. I kiss your soft skin and smell your sweet breath, and you're a baby again. You are the best of both worlds.

I love that you make me feel so good! Like when you said

"I think Heavenly Father and Jesus made you a girl cause they knew you would be such a good mommy"

and when you said

"mom, I love the way you are"

I even love it when you get angry and say

"mom that makes me SO 'set at you!!"

Or when you're crying cause we're leaving Gram's house and you say with such attitude

"It doesn't even matter that we have to leave!!!"

I love that you want to watch "Tom and Cherry every day" and that you're into big boy stuff like "guys" (action figures) but that you still like to cuddle in my bed with a sippy cup of "chocolate milky"

I love that Saturday night you told me you couldn't go to your new primary class

"cause you had the hic ups"

and I really love that after you were convinced to go you asked your teachers to call you

"Owen Howard"

We went to walmart today. You were a very good boy and asked for a plain cheeseburger

"cause you don't like the red stuff "

As we walked to the car and I held your hand we were pretty happy. You, because you were holding a plain cheeseburger (we checked) in a little white to-go bag. Me, because I was holding your hand and watching you smile.