He's seven and a half and his baby-ness is dissipating with each aging day. So when he chose to sit on our laps and let us wrap our arms around him, I had to snap a picture because things like this are happening less and less. Sometimes I wonder if he feels pushed out of our laps by the smaller but much louder little ones or if he's, simply, just needing us less and less. Perhaps it's a complex mixture of the two but knowing him, I'm willing to bet he's quietly sacrificing himself for the greater good. Either way, I will jump at every chance to let my love for him be known.
Out of all my kids, he reminds me the most of the handsome man with the kind, blue eyes to the right. Quiet. Introspective. Sensitive. And kind. I worry about Aiden because the world prefers bold, flashing lights rather than the quiet, intricate goodness that can touch your soul like a really great book. It takes a while to become acquainted but once you do, they never quite leave you entirely.
I tell Jarod all the time how similar they are. He listens and nods. But I don't think I convey that every time I make the comparison, I'm also reassuring myself. If he turns out anything like his dad, then I know he's going to be just fine ❤️