My sweet boy

I told Chad I had planned on writing down a few little stories about Noah to put in his keepsake box and he reminded me that's why this blog was designed. There have just been a few moments that have tugged on my heart and I didn't want to forget them. You always think you'll remember, but you don't.

Since Noah started preschool, he has learned so much. New phrases, words, appreciation for art, and a new prayer. As the three of us sat down for dinner the other night, we asked Noah if he wanted to say the prayer. He said no as he always does, but then after we prayed, he wanted to show us how he prays at school. Noah precedes to clasp his hands together, bow his head, shut his eyes, and recite, "God is great, God is good, Let us thank you for this food. Amen". The innocent look on his face and his long eyelashes gently resting together moved me to tears. The sweetest prayer I ever heard and the same one I recited as a child.

Then this morning, Noah and I went to church without Chad as he was suffering from allergies. On the way home, Noah was quiet. I looked at him in the rear view mirror and he smiled. He then said, "Mom, your so nice and pretty." Ahh, where does he get this? I smiled and thanked him.

One more...this afternoon Noah asked to go ride his big wheel. I told him I would walk beside him while he rode. So off we went, after a brief interception by the ice cream man. As we were moving along, Noah stopped and picked a long piece of grass. You know, like a weed that had seeded at the top. He gave it to me. I held it and we moved on. Well we went to visit our previous next door neighbor's house to see how she was making out since moving. I guess I left my "flower" there and when we got to the section where he picked it, he turned and asked where mine went. Oh no. I must have left it at Ms. Jill's. He has a complete meltdown right there on the sidewalk because he wants to go back and get it. I say no and ask him to pick me another one. He cries no; he wants that one (the one at Jill's). So here we are: a big pregnant girl and her crying toddler sitting on the sidewalk on Wagon Wheel Road. How could I get upset with this though? He's so sad because the "flower" he picked for me was left behind. Noah, you are such a sensitive boy and I love, love, love that in you the same way I love it in your dad!

And, just now when I left Noah's bedroom, he picked up my hand, put it on his head and sort of shuffled his hair. Then he took my hand and kissed it. All priceless moments and moments to be thankful for! Noah at 3 years, 4 months.