The boy was bouncing off the walls tonight…almost literally. He was sliding across the hardwood floor in his socks and throwing stuffed animals at his baby sister and stomping and racing and starting to drive his father a little crazy.
We told him to quiet his body, to quiet his voice. But he is four and excited to have everyone at home for the night.
Do you want to take a warm bath?
Do you want to do your crazy kid yoga video?
It was dark outside and cold but there are Christmas lights and scarves.
Do you want to take a Christmas light walk?
His face broke open in a wide smile.
And so we bundled up and wandered around the neighborhood and choose our favorite lights. We chased each others shadows and blew our breath out so we could see it against the sky. He slipped his mitten covered hand into mine and said “I really like to walk with you Mama”.
When we got home he put on his pajamas and curled into Mr. Monkey’s lap and sang us Jingle Bells and watched a little Miracle on 34th Street, his head resting quietly on Mr. Monkey’s chest.
And I felt like I was, at least for one night, exactly the parent I had hoped I’d be before I had kids.