There are so many times that Noah seems to be older than two. He's incredibly smart, he's caring, and has a very active imagination. But it was a small thing today that reminded me that he's still my little boy. Before coming down the stairs after his nap, he handed me his blanket and stuffed ducky like he usually does. But he held on to his Woodstock. Not only that, but he held him out in his little hand and waved him back and forth as if to say, "See him, he's my favorite". It just struck me as so sweet and innocent and I was reminded that he's still just a little boy.
A little boy who can't go anywhere without Woodstock and loves his soft blanket.
A little boy who loves to act like a dinosaur and race his cars off the coffee table.
A little boy who is afraid of loud thunder and still cries when he scrapes his knee.
He's my little boy, and he's growing up much too quickly. I have to remind myself to hold on to these moments of little boy-hood because they will be gone before I know it. I love this little boy to pieces and I'm not quite ready to give him up just yet.
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