The question comes daily: "Is he 2?" and every time, it sinks in a little deeper that there's very little baby left. There's only boy. The fact is, he's 20 months old this week and apparently tall and verbal for his age.
Liam Worth is about 20% mischievous and 80% just insatiably curious.
Passionate about animals of all kinds, trains, trucks, planes, and dinosaurs.
Lover of books, connoisseur of good cheese and lollipops, wearer of suspenders, and Curious George's biggest fan.
He's got my sense of humor (he laughs at his own jokes) and his Daddy's appetite. My eyes, Daddy's nose and mouth.
He loves to march through the woods surrounding any local park we visit, stick in hand.
He sometimes laughs uncontrollably when he knows he's in trouble, which is perplexing as a parent.
He's an expert Facetimer with grandparents and friends all over the world.
I'm realizing more every day that my best mothering truly comes through prayer. When we spend time in the morning and in the evening praying together, for listening ears and obedient hearts (for both of us) and gobs of patience (for me), there's a marked difference in the tone and flow of our day together. Whether he understands we're talking to Jesus or not, he gets quiet and serious unlike any other time of the day, then shouts a hearty "AMEN!" at the end.
He is our joy, our laughter, our sanctification. Having front row seats to the unfolding of his days is the privilege of a lifetime.
Happy 20 months, little love.