I sit on the couch with him, listening to his deep, yet still babyish voice retelling the story I just read him. He skips whole sentences and paragraphs, but he knows the gist of the story, even reciting some complete phrases with that pronounced lisp he has. I look at the top of his head, his dishwater blond hair, dried messy from his bath, and pull him tighter to my side. Fruity-scented cleanness surrounds him in his red footed sleeper.

I feel a thrill of pride at his adorableness. His soft, rosy red cheeks haven’t quite lost their baby plumpness and his enormous, long-lashed blue eyes turn me to mush no matter how furious I am with him. I adore the way he looks off into the distance when I’m talking to him, like he’s pondering what I’m saying, as if the answers to everything might be found in the air nearby. Those eyes will be a powerful tool for him when he figures out how to use them.

This time before bed is just a few minutes of my entire life, of his entire life, and I think of him full-grown someday. I feel torn by the love I have for this little boy who will someday be bigger than me. As much as I am looking forward to watching him grow up, I’m dreading it too. I know I will long for my baby boy, my baby who at 5 still cries whenever I leave, insists that I tuck him in every night, gives me Eskimo kisses as he giggles, tells me I’m a princess.

What will he turn out to be, this little boy who tells tall tales to keep up with his sisters’ school stories; looks out for his younger brother while at the same time taking his toys away; informs me that he was “a naughty boy” because he didn’t listen to his sisters on the school bus; cries, “I want to be a nice boy!” when he gets in trouble. He makes sophisticated declarations – “I put it in here for safekeeping,” and “It looks so handsome!” — and often surprises us with his expansive vocabulary. Imaginative, articulate and bright, his forte clearly doesn’t lie in the physical realm. He will be a designer, an artist, a musician, or maybe a writer, like me.

Exercise: List the 10 things you love the most about each child. Save it. Add to it as they get older. It will be extremely meaningful to you in the future.

Tags: boy, epilepsy, family, parenting, seizures, twins