Last night Cole was so tired that he was bouncing off the walls to keep himself awake. At one point he was banished to the couch to settle down, and as I watched his eyes got heavier and heavier, and his head started to droop… and BAM, he shot back up like someone had stabbed him, and immediately started running around again. He was impossible, whining about everything from not being allowed to have fruit snacks for dinner to what was available to watch on T.V. When bedtime came, he put up a halfhearted fight but you could tell his heart wasn’t really in it. We read a quick story and then we came to my favorite part of the day, when I turn out the light and his room is dim with his nightlight. This is when I kneel on his floor and stroke his head (he calls it “rubbing”, as in… Rub me, Mommy, rub me! which doesn’t sound very appropriate unless you know what it means) and we talk about all kinds of stuff. Usually he regales me with tales of MInecraft, and what the zombies are doing, or what he wants to be for Halloween. Current contender? The Scream monster from the movie, though he has never seen Scream and is scared of loud noises, let alone a horror movie. Anyway, this is the only time of the day when I get to see him still, and I can’t help but remember those endless nights when I rocked and rocked him, wondering what kind of boy he’d grow up to be. While I stroke his hair away from his forehead, I gaze into those big brown eyes and I’m so in love with him I can’t stand it. He’s turned out to be just the little boy I was wishing for.