remembering his name

The big one's vocabulary is exploding these days.  I adore the absolute joy on his face as he finally has words to express what has been going on in that little brain for months and months.

This morning he is walking around saying, "I Jude!  I big!".  I'm putting the dinner in the crock pot and he's weaving in and out of my legs as I attempt to measure the broth and seasoning.  I feel him hug my legs as he says, "Mama?  Mama?  Mama?"

"Yes, bubba?"

"I Jude," he points to himself.

"Yes, I know.  I named you."

And as I remember his name and the story and meaning behind it my heart swells.  Praise.  A precious gift, this boy was.  So desperately wanted.  Not that my love and want for him is any different than that for Isaac.  But Isaac was the sort that I didn't know how our family needed him until he was part of it.  We longed for our first child for years before we met him.

Later in his room, I get his attention.  "Look at Mama's eyes," I say.

After repeating myself a time or three, he looks.

"I love you.  With my whole heart.  You are so special to me."

I'm trying to remember to tell him this every day.  It's easy to let a day pass without looking him in the eye and making sure that he hears these words.  That I am for him.

He smirks.

"PERCY BIG CHOO-CHOO!!!"

Did I tell you he turns 2 next week?  

Still.  I try to take this moment to remember that this is how our Father feels for us.  The type of unconditional love I feel for this boy that grew in me and that I named.  The ownership and responsibility I feel.  How much more does the Father that designed us care for us?  So much.