re-learning love

lying there in still-mostly-darkness,
beside my little boy
in his bottom bunk
in a room full of toys
and books
and guppies
and a light with a switch
and an mp3 player that sings "la-la" and "honey",
all for him,
i could understand why he'd be excited.

but i didn't really want him to be,
lying there in mostly-darkness.

that's just the way it is with children:
their excitement bubbles up at the strangest of times.
it's letting it fill our own hearts that's the hard part.

like when we were at the mall,
and our baby leapt from the toy boat,
landed on his diaper, jumped to his feet
and tore outta' that play centre like his pants were on fire.
like, who is this kid?
-- one for whom the future holds no limits, obviously.

and later, sharing subs for supper,
our oldest boy fixed his gaze behind our heads.
"dad, look." and there was the pointer finger,
demanding that we ogle the guy behind us,
who was wearing a turban.
"blue. your favourite colour." and he ate another chip.
-- he's got none on his shoulder, evidently.

and then, while darkness crept up
on two of us in the top bunk,
i gushed, "you've been so patient with your baby brother
these nights. i'm so proud of you."
batting lashes, he cooed, "i'm vewwy patient!"
i rolled eyes. we rubbed noses, blew kisses.
-- he blew some patience my way, too, i think.

that's just the way it is with children:
their love bubbles up at the strangest of times.
it's letting it fill our own hearts that's the needful thing.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=MbrY_fcmeKU&feature=channel