In a Flash

I want to remember the way that he runs (full speed) with his arms back and his chest out. The way he always turns the blower on the fire place on whenever we are hanging out down stairs. (I think he thinks it's a white noise machine.) The way he shouts, "Woah," any time he sees something new that he likes. The way his face lights up whenever he sees his Papa or his Jam. The way he touches his nose to anything soft and fluffy, not only puppies, kitties, and stuffed animals but also the Swiffer duster and Lola's bed. The way he walks over clutching Good Night, Moon and hands it up for a read through or two.

I don't want time to slow. I don't want him to stay the same age. I don't want to keep him just how he is at this very moment because each new moment is distinct and miraculous.

But I do want to remember.

Also, I would like to remember teaching him how to dribble a soccer ball......but for now, I'll just remember how fast he runs by it and how much he giggles when I hold him and run around the yard kicking and chasing the ball.