Is it weird that Kyle and I were excited when Sam came home with his first scraped knee? We were happy that Sam had a great day playing at school and had the scrapes to prove it. And you could tell Sam was proud of his ouchie.
Maybe that's just the kind of parents we are. We don't see bumps and bruises as a bad thing. We see them as signs of an active growing boy. A boy who comes home with dirt in his fingers nails and mulch in his diaper (seriously though, how does it get in there?).
Sam is growing like a weed. A tall and skinny little man with beautiful blonde hair and a love of his kitty (both the stuffed and real varieties). He is talking up a storm these days and seems to say a new word every day. He loves digging in the dirt and comes alive when he's running around outside.
And boy can he dance. He's a natural.
As much as I love watching him grow and become more independent, I have also shed a few tears these last few weeks at the loss of my little baby.
Sam, you bring me and your daddy such joy. Like immeasurable joy that we didn't even know was possible. The kind of joy that exists while we're watching you dance in the front of church with all the big kids, no fear, just moving to the music like you were born to do it. You were born to dance. You were born for so many things. I can't wait to watch life unfold.