Bruiser, the 2-year old, is a lot more of a cuddler than the Bean was/is. Not that Bean doesn’t like to snuggle in, but he’s a bit like a cat in that it’s generally on his own terms.
Bruiser, on the other hand, will generally come calling whenever I’m sitting down. He likes to wiggle right into my side, and put his head on my shoulder, and he has a thing for thumbs. i’d say my thumbs, but he does the same with his dad, grabs on to both of them and gets mad if you try to repurpose them for anything other than his enjoyment.
I was thinking tonight as we were tucked in together on the couch that he’s inching closer and closer to the point at which those little gestures won’t be automatic anymore. He’s getting so big, and so articulate, and really starting to engage the world head-on, taking all comers.
Is it be weird to be wistful and nostalgic for a moment that hasn’t even passed yet? Maybe. He reminds me how much a surprise it was that I like parenting. And for all that sometimes being a parent doesn’t seem natural, these moments are as unconscious as breathing, me and him against the world.
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