This guy. He is so mello, so content, and so fun to be around that I have given him the title “my easy child.” (And yes, I already know this is wrong and children should not be labeled). Cannon came into the world after only seven hours of labor and two pushes. And since then, he has remained my low-maintenance baby boy—almost always happy, almost always pleased just to be around you. I haven’t got a clue where the last eighteen months went, but the thought that this little guy is going to be a big brother in a few weeks is crazy. I mean, it’s true, there’s no going back on that. But it is crazy.
This morning I was a little more intentional than normal with my baby boy as we rocked in the cozy chair by the bay window—our usual morning routine. He drank his milk and I ran my fingers through his hair (you guys, I challenge you to find an eighteen month old with better hair); we practiced our animal sounds and I clapped wildly when he showed me a lion roar for the first time. And I said big prayers for him, that he would find his words and someday use them for God’s glory; that he would see his role in the world as a brave peacemaker; and that he would love Jesus and love others like He did. I said these three things again and again, and then Cannon slid off my lap, grabbed his elephant toy, and off he went.
Do you ever just watch your babies in their world? I don’t do it enough. I’m quick to let the little man slide off my lap and then go check my email or get breakfast ready. But today, I just stared at him a minute, watched him pick up toys and put them back, determining for himself which one he really wanted. I won’t get to do this kind of savoring forever, so today, I did. And then, he caught me looking, and with the biggest grin and quickest feet he ran over to the chair and buried his head in my lap. I think that’s what I will remember most about my Cannon, the way he buries his head when he’s happy. The gift of this boy is truly beyond measure.
This morning reminded me that, while there is so much work to be done—in our homes, building a career, or out in the world for others’ sake—my most important work is right here, in this chair, in moments like these.
Cannon Lee, I’m so thankful I get to be your mama. I’m your biggest fan forever.