It's a beautiful thing, to watch a tiny baby grow into a toddler and in no time, become a child. It is only to this point I really know, can really relate to and really appreciate. Right before the taint of school and all of it's influences set in. And I have to say, it's an incredible time in a child's life. The innocence, the understanding, the development and the pure, natural compassion. The world is raw, so black and white, in all it's cloudy grey. Amazing to be a part of. Every day my delightful Angus enlightens me, through his unique take on it all:
His preschool teacher is heavily pregnant. Feet swelling and understandably tired, she takes the odd day off from teaching. In the most matter of fact tone, over dinner one night, Angus quipped, "it can't be the baby causing Angela's feet to be sore" ... "the baby is not in her feet, it's in her tummy!".
We have an all too familiar scene in the evenings, with me squawking at the boys to wrangle them up for bedtime. One night last week, with an indignant tone, Angus snapped at me through gritted teeth, "Grrrrr, you can just... go on a holiday Mum!" perhaps one of the 'nicer' nasty things anyone has ever said to me.
Next morning, hastily ironing clothes on the run (as I do), Angus appeared at my feet holding his latest favourite trinket and casually informed me that "just like ironing is your favourite thing Mama, this is MY favourite thing". I obviously make ironing look fun... or maybe it's because I do so much of it.
But the words that make me smile each and every time he whispers them to Felix as they part at the preschool gate, "Bye bye little guy, you be good for Mama today, Ok?" I do love this age and all the precious Angus-isms that go with it.