I’ve found myself lately, wondering what Isaac with be like as he grows up. As bittersweet as it is, I know he won’t always be a baby. I wonder if he’ll be into sports, or cars, or construction equipment. Maybe he’ll be gifted with music or art. I wonder if he’ll like the things our family likes, or if he’ll be unique and mysterious. Will he want to talk dinosaurs? Maybe space exploration. Or magic?
Truth be told, I used to worry, before I had him, that I might not even like our child. That sounds crazy and horrible now, but I was concerned that I might just not click with my own kid. Needless to say, I’m no longer worried about such nonsense. I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him, that not only did I like him, but that I adored him in every sense of the word.
It remains to be seen what will grab his attention, but I’m quite sure that whatever it is, I’ll be right there beside him getting excited too. It’s hard not to burst with joy when he’s enjoying something.
Until then, I’m going to soak up every squeal of delight aimed at the cats as they walk by, and the endless chewing on anything he can get his chubby little, dimpled hands on. The ceiling fan is still the coolest thing he’s ever seen, and he can stare in a mirror all day.
All the while, I’m staring at him, because I cannot get over him. He’s the greatest thing ever. Whatever he ends up loving, I will always be his biggest fan.