Takeoff

He identifies shapes and brushes his teeth, shoots baskets with more enthusiasm than accuracy and is heavy with all kinds of awesome.  He’s considered, yet not too careful, warm-hearted and wondrously perceptive.  He thinks that scotch tape can fix anything and he asks for ketchup with everything.  He's taken off in so many ways this second year, in so many amazing directions.  I mean, he wants to take off his pants, the ornaments, my jewelry, but he shed his infancy faster than he can peel off his shirt, so quickly it's hard to pinpoint when it even happened.  He is a big big big big boy, his words, so eager to learn.  At the rate he's going, I have a feeling home could someday simply mean the soil under his shoes.

Although he really wanted to fly, he settled for watching from the old control tower.

brothers make the best wingmen

"meem bi-pane" (his favorite)

I love watching him take off, love the idea of sending both boys out into the world to live a life different from my own.  I love him.  And I can't wait to see where he'll go.