Following my calling as a minister, wife, and mother as I seek to find sanctuary.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Happy birthday, Brady boo!
My sweet boy, one of silly giggles and intense concentration, all elbows and knees, compactly tucked into my lap. How he's grown in the past year, in determination and independence. What once was "I can't, help me" has now become a proud boy who patiently helps his sister learn how to write her letters and "color in the lines." It's hard to believe that this child, practically wordless for the first three years and shy and introverted for the fourth year is now one of constant verbal streams--questions, thoughts, arguments, connections, and memories. He is a master of words, both written and spoken, teaching himself to read by stringing together magnetic letters, starting from sounds and progressing to words and sentences and paragraphs. He loves order and routine and familiarity, but has delighted us in the ways he has jumped into a new school and new friends this year. His heart is bigger than his small stature would suggest, and he is both more fragile and stronger than you would guess.
He's a puddle-jumping, rock collecting, exploring wonder, full of creativity and fun. He's a singer and dancer, a writer and reader, a photographer and videographer, a learner and teacher, and our miracle boy forever. I'm proud to be his mama, and am amazed and grateful for all he continues to teach me.