I had a pretty fantastic afternoon. I went to pick Ethan up from preschool, and his face lit up when he saw me. He did a little happy dance when I walked into his classroom. He then ran around to all of the kids in the room and gave them an enthusiastic "Bye bye, (insert kid's name here)!!!" He handed out hugs to his friends like they were candy.
He told me clever things as we walked to the car, got in all on his own, and tried to buckle himself in, stating, "I need to help Mommy." He tried to tell a funny joke. He sang me "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" as we drove out of the parking lot. He danced with gusto to every song on the radio, shouting with glee, "This is my FAVORITE song!" with each new tune. He giggled at me whenever he caught me glancing at him through the rearview mirror.
He asked if he could help me close the garage door when we got home, and asked his stuffed dragon to help me as well. He thanked dragon for being so kind. He requested pizza for dinner and gave me a huge hug when I said yes. He helped me put away the baby clothes that I washed today, and stumbled over the word "onesie" in his cute little voice as he handed me each tiny infant item.
I looked at the boy who has been my only baby for so long, and realized something. I obviously love him. But I also really like him. I enjoy hanging out with him. I think he's funny. I adore his gentle heart and the way he turns a phrase in his adorable, awkward three-year-old dialect. I dig each of the faces he pulls that are so undeniably Ethan.
I love his spunk, his spirit, the way he throws himself head first into discovering everything this world has to offer. He's a pretty amazing kid, and I'm super lucky to be his mom. And when lucky little baby brother gets here, he's going to have a pretty incredible role model.