Growing Up

At some point, over the last few weeks, Aiden has really turned into a proper little boy and I don't feel like he's much of a baby at all (except when I give him his bedtime bottle of milk).  He is such a joy to be around and his grins and giggles are irresistible!  He is signing more and talking more, though it's mostly babble.  Even still, he is getting his point across - he can sign 'milk', 'more', 'eat', and 'all done'.  Though these are all very valuable communications, I really can't wait to hear more of what he is thinking.  


Sometimes, I can read his mind (really, I just know his behavior patterns), because the idea in his head just flashes across his face and I instantly know what will happen next:  Aiden picks up a new object, mouths it and suddenly I see it - he's going to throw it down the stairs.  He quickly takes off for the gated doorway at the stair landing and tips it over the top to see how far it will go.  I know he will think it's especially funny and exciting if it plip-plops all the way to the bottom.  


However, there are times when I really wish I could hear those thoughts.  Tonight, after giving him his milk, I cuddled him in the rocking chair, gently swaying back and forth.  I could just barely make out his (still) open eyes in the dim light from downstairs streaming through the cracked door.  He was quiet and still for several minutes when he suddenly pulled the dummy out of his mouth and said, 'Oh Boy!'  Twice.  He then popped the dummy back in his mouth and was mostly quiet again.  I resisted the strong urge to laugh at this, but just couldn't help wondering, 'What was he just thinking of?'  Was he remembering something from earlier in the day?  Did he see a glimmer of something in the darkness and just took notice of it?  Was it an 'Oh Boy!' I can't wait to go to sleep?  Hmmm, that last one's rather doubtful.


This morning, while Don took Aiden to the park, I enjoyed a coffee in the shopping mall.  While sipping my latte in a corner I watched a mom and daughter, probably 7 or 8, chatting at a nearby table.  Though I was listening to my iPod and could not hear their conversation, I was smiling to myself, imagining an older Aiden and wondering what he would be saying to me.