This weekend, it was glorious outside, and we went to a playground on Sunday, one we hadn’t been to in a couple of years.
I watched in awe as Max dashes across the basketball court; he wasn’t running the last time we were here.
I watched in awe as Max tried to climb the stairs to the slide, then I helped him get up there.
I watched in awe as he slid down by himself, giggling the whole way.
I watched in awe as he grasped the swing’s links with both hands (he tends to ignore his right hand).
I watched in awe as kept his balance on the teeter totter.
I have these moments of awe all the time when I’m out with Max—on the playground, at the mall, just walking down the street. Moments when people are going about doing their regular-people things and moms are sitting on benches chatting away and kids are climbing and swinging and shouting and I am in my own private heaven because Max is attempting something new or doing something I never imagined he’d be able to do.
Do you know what I mean about these private moments of awe?
Ellen blogs daily at To The Max