A tiny boy has noticed he is a body. He moves wildly and carelessly and I try to catch him with my camera resulting in blurry images full of love and relief that another memory has been caught forever. He touches all parts of his body wondering. A look of serious, concentration spreads across his face and I sit and watch him as he ponders. Suddenly he throws himself across the sofa giggling and then tries to stand on his head. He is unpredictable and always hurting himself but mama is always close by to kiss the wounds and wipe away the tears before I am pushed away to get back to more playing. He walks everywhere now. His tiny arms high in the air for balance and I can't help but giggle.
I do the dishes or make food and he stands holding my leg, crying to be picked up. He is happy to play by himself as long as he knows I am paying attention. He is a performer, just like me. When I turn my attention away he follows me like a lost puppy, trying to walk after me and falling as he cries. I pick him up and hug him and he quickly calms, burying his face in my chest and taking deep breaths of relief. I continue what I can with him in my arms, he clings on tight, scared that I will put him down again.
At night he sleeps with us, safe between his mama and papa. I love waking to find his arm wrapped around my neck, his body against mine. He wakes in the night and climbs sleepily onto my stomach before falling asleep again. I wrap my arms around him and enjoy his warm weight on me. In the mornings my eyes open to a smiling face over me or a sneaky hand or mouth trying to reach my breast. He is so clever when he wants to be. Too clever sometimes. I'm glad he's mine though. So very glad.
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