Loving him “because he’s mine” is just one part of the much bigger equation and dismissive of a bigger point.
If this was really Medieval Times, the dragon would have been afraid to come near us.
Feeding him corn or peas by the spoonful myself is actually pretty easy. It would take all of five minutes. But, I shouldn’t.
He knows when to strike and how I am the only person preventing him in that moment.
Her bewildered face appeared smaller and smaller in my rear-view. This was not a teachable moment.
Everything is going to be OK. Then again, OK doesn’t mean anything.
I guess I should probably mention that my baby is ten years old.
In those moments where it is just him and me, I’m more honest with myself than at any other points of my day.
These outbursts might still occur in his daily travels. I rarely see them anymore.
My non-verbal son has taught be a form of communication that has come in handier than I ever dreamed.