dear jack and cade,
you know i love you. i tell you all the time. but it occurs to me from time to time that there are a billion different reasons why i love you, and that if i don't write down at least a few of them, i will forget them, and i will never be able to explain it to you when i'm old and slobbery and you have to change my pants. there are a million moments in every day, it seems, and most of them give me new reasons to fall in love with you. here are a few of them...
i love that when i leave for work you two monkeys run to the big bay window in the living room and wait to see my car driving up the driveway, when you begin jumping like caffeinated kangaroos and waving furiously to me, like its the last time you'll ever see me. i wave back, just as uninhibited. and i beep the horn. and through the glass of our house, and across the front yard, i hold you in a father's embrace like you can't even imagine. it makes me cry almost every time.
i love that when you are partway through dress or undress and you so often suddenly get infected with some sort of dancing disease which causes you to gyrate and shake your bodies like some tribal warleader in full blown fury. i love the way your shoulder blades point out of your skinny little backs, waving under your soft clean skin, a perfect orchestra of body and movement, a witness to God's miracle of life, and a reminder to me of the joy i too often surrender in place of worry.
i love that when i wake you up in the morning and i lie in your bed with you for those few blessed moments when you are coming back to the land of the aware, you allow me in with total trust, welcoming me into your sleepy warm world. and i love how your little blankets, which you've been cradling in comfort all night, smell like just a little bit of heaven, full of your warmth and dripping with your dreams. i breath you in.
and i want to keep breathing you in, in all these little mundane magnificent moments. just thought i should tell you, before it slipped my mind: i love you.