A very special distraction

Normally today I would be giving my week 3 22 in 22 update. But it’s getting pushed aside for a very special and important reason.

This little guy right here is turning five today:

I just want to brag about this little boy for a minute. He’s as smart as he is handsome. He’s as intuitive as he is funny.

He’s as dangerous as he is gentle. He’s as wonderful as he is infuriating.

He is the externalization of my heart.

The day he was born was so peaceful. I sang through his birth. I can still feel how warm his snuggle was in the moments that followed, when he was on my tummy and we met for the first time. And all that hair!

He is the boy about whom I cannot worry, because some kind of protective veil was put over my senses when he was dedicated at church: You cannot imagine the number of times I will deploy my angels to protect this child. This was the prophecy made over him that day, and the sheer number of times I have remembered this in five short years tells me that the kid must have an entire battalion of angels following him around.

He is a diplomat. He is the world’s best playmate. He is a best brother. He is a negotiator. He wants to still be a baby, but he’s itching to grow up.

Today, he wants to be a scientist. He wants to do experiments. Heaven knows, he’s already had some practice.

All this to say that I am taking a day to honor my favorite littlest scalawag. Happy fifth birthday, my tiny baby big boy best brother scientist.

Published by Lily Fields

I am passionate about contentment. This is a challenge, because I am equally passionate about progress. I get up at 4:00AM to chip away at a solution to this monolithic problem: how to make progress on my contentment. Born and raised in the USA, I married a French philosophy teacher in 1999. We have lived in France since 2007. We stayed young and carefree until life threw us two curveballs in the form of little humans one after another in 2015 and 2017 respectively. Now I am a slightly older, slightly more exhausted version of myself, but with mystery stains on my walls and a never-ending pile of laundry.

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