One of my favorite moments as the mom of a four-year-old is when he reaches up and holds my hand. It could be for any reason…to drag me into another room to play with him, to get me to stay in his room longer at bedtime, to distract me when I’m trying to talk to someone else. He has been clingier lately, but I don’t mind. I know eventually he’ll grow out of this, and snuggling with me, giving me kisses, and holding my hand won’t happen so easily.
So while he is this age, I am trying to emblazon in my
memory exactly what it feels like to have that little hand in mine. It’s
perfection.
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