He selected a few books, and brought them over to me. The first one I saw was "There's a Wocket in My Pocket." He said he wanted to read that, "because....well...remember last weekend? When...when..it was read to me?"
We had been talking earlier about the fact that he's not only getting new parents, but also new grandparents, and an aunt, uncles, and cousins. And last week, my mom read that book to him, and he loved it. Giggled the whole way through, in fact.
Side note: My mom is amazingly good at reading stories to kids. In fact, those are some of my favorite childhood memories of things we did together. I think the amount of time she spent reading with me is a large part of the reason I still love books so much today.Anyway, I could tell he was remembering that time, but wasn't sure what to call her. So I asked him, "Have you thought about what you'll call them, now that you're going to be part of our family?"
"Yes," he said. "I think I'm going to call them Grandma and Grandpa. So anyway, I liked it when Grandma read me the Wocket in My Pocket book."
Melt my heart, why don't you.
Fast forward past the bedtime reading, past the part where he decided he didn't want to wear long sleeves to bed after all and we had to change, and past the bedtime prayers, to the place in the routine where it was time to turn out the light.
To preface this next part, we hadn't told him "I love you" yet. Not because it wasn't true, but since he's a little older, we wanted to give him time to be really comfortable with us before we said it, and have the chance to show him first through our actions, so that the words meant something to him.
Right before I turned out the light, I said, "Isaac, do you know what?"
"I love you. A lot."
"Kelli, I love you too."
I barely made it out of the room before my eyes welled up with the happiest of tears. I am so thankful for that child.