My boy is a ball of energy, a ray of light; he’s loud laughter and sudden tears. He runs full force into everything and embraces life with complete abandon. He loves Legos, and Star Wars and superheros. He loves to pound on things, and crush stuff but he’s also happy playing “puppy” or dolls with my daughter. Sometimes he’ll take a big fall and say “I’m ok!!” and sometimes he’ll barely scrape his knee and cry for hours (or at least until a Band-Aid is secured and makes it all better). He is curious, and smart and silly. He is still trying to figure out this world and is forever asking questions (Mommy, when they tear down the old library building where will the spiders go??) He is brave and independent and a little reckless. As he grows my husband and I are trying to figure out the best way to guide him, to help him channel all that engery in a positive way and to help him navigate through life. I’m not sure we’re getting it right- especially when he sighs in exasperation when I can’t answer his most pressing questions or when his mischievous behavior turns into something a bit too rotten. I feel like I am totally winging this parenting thing. I’m not always sure I should trust my gut and I’m sure I’ve made a ton of mistakes so far and I know I’ll make many, many more. But I think I’m doing fairly ok, because at the heart of it all he’s very, very loving. He’s forever telling all of us how much he loves us, and he’s generous with his hugs and kisses. And, most days at some point during all the chaos he’ll turn to me and say “Mom, you’re the best Mom I ever had”…
