This morning we were getting Sparky ready to head over to his caregiver’s place as usual. Every day he chooses a beloved toy to take with him, usually just something to snuggle with when he goes down for his nap, but sometimes he wants a car or a train to play with during the ride too. Today he had two engines for car play, one in each hand, and I had him up on my hip in preparation for carrying him down to the car. (Yes, of course he can get down the stairs and walk to the car himself, but he is also two, and there is an entire exciting world of grass and trees and flowers and dirt and spiders between the door and the vehicle, and a schedule that must be kept.)

A: Who do you want to take with you today? Buzz? Bun-Bun?

BOY: Take Mama.

He patted my shoulder and I held him pretty tightly, thinking about how much I love this kid. He waved and blew me kisses as he and HRH drove away, and I was still choked up.

He came home with us two years and five days ago, the day after my birthday. That night the Preston-LeBlancs brought us excellent take-away Szechwan and a whole delicious bakery chocolate cake, and we all sat in the living room and marveled at him and at how precious life is.

I am thankful for family, chosen and otherwise, and the miracle of children, and for the opportunity to watch my son grow and learn and laugh and run, and love.