I love him.
With every fiber of my being.
And I never ever want to forget this age. In the moments when I think I do, when I want to pull out my hair and scream "why can't you just obey me?!", I think about those nights in the green rocking chair. And tickle fights. And hours upon hours of stories. And the first time he told me he loved me. His first steps. And the fear I try to push down. The fear about how he will grow up and no longer need me. No longer want to rock a song or even drive my car. And it makes cherish even the "time outs". And give him another cookie.