Just lately, as the September sunshine has shone, things with my boy have been good.
Gone is the indescribable boredom of the baby days, gone are the testing tantrums that tore my patience to shreds, gone are the sleepless nights and the no-nap days, gone is the biting and hitting that left me feeling abused and attacked, and in their place is a bright little person whose company is a delight.
He communicates with little nods and shakes of his head and strange words that only I can decipher; he looks me in the eye and smiles before running over to smother my face with kisses; he plays with an independence and absorption that I could watch for hours; he 'reads' with a quiet contentment that makes me long to reach for a book; he sleeps for two long hours in his cot every afternoon and is quiet throughout the night; he mimics me to make me laugh and comforts me when I'm sad and he names the objects that he sees with such delight that cars and tractors bring joy to my day.
And instead of being a baby who I must feed and clean and care for, he's suddenly a person whose company I would seek.
He's my playmate, my workmate, my friend, my love.
And as I enjoy this honeymoon period with my toddler, knowing that the 'terrible two's' are around the next corner and savouring every kiss and smile and song that comes my way, I wonder once again how it's possible to love one small person so very much, and yet to find that I love him more and more with each new day that comes.