I can hold you until you turn out the light

This morning, I woke early for a bathroom trip (I am getting old) and returned to find Ev had crawled into our bed, snuggling down into the warm spot Mike had just left. He was fast asleep, streched out on his stomach with his arms over his head. I laid down next to him just to watch him sleep--his eyelids flutter, his muscles twitch, his deep breathing, the small smile on his lips.

Every so often I'm still amazed at him (most times when he's sleeping and still, which is so rare and special a time in itself). I can't believe how tall he is, how strong and fit, how beautiful. How did we make something that looks like this?

And he keeps growing and changing. I can barely remember Evan's babyhood or when he was first crawling or walking. Now he runs. Now he comes in here while I'm writing, with his electric toothbrush in his mouth. He's jumping on my lap, bouncing to a Tegan and Sara song. He says "Mama, nah nah" and it's time for me to go.