Reed is a hand-holder and how this sweet little-something is so important to me. Important and cherished as I know my days are numbered of "hand-holding" with my sweet boy.
In November, I had Veteran's Day off and so took Reed to the park (was super warm though November 11th!). A boy pushed him because he was about to pick up the kid's shovel or something, and Reed got that crumpled up, "wounded" face, burst into tears and shouted "MOMMY! Hold my hand!!!". I had to kinda love it, though his feelings were hurt, because I thought to myself...tomorrow he will be two and oh-how-fast these birthdays sneak up!...how many more until he won't want to hold my hand?
Come December, on Santa's lap, he kept calling over to me- in a timid little voice: "Mom. hold. my. hand.", (repeated numerous times). Would only stay on Santa's lap when I was holding his hand, though I eventually got a photo without my arm in it by bribing my child with fruit snacks...didn't think of it until now, but kinda wish I'd just had it taken with my hand as his comfort instead ;)
Over break, Steve cut Reed's hair. This took waaaaay to long and we have since learned from this experience :). Anyhow, because it was taking so darn long Reed understandably got restless in his high chair/"barber's chair" and Steve called to me, "will you come hold his hands?", meaning of course: hold his hands down, so he doesn't swat at the scissors anymore. As I was walking over there, Reed said, "yeah, Mommy, come hold my hand"...and that was enough to keep him perfectly content and still for the rest of the grooming! Poor thing...had to feel a little guilty that we'd thought of pinning 'em down and he, unknowingly, shed light and new perspective on our words....made the too-long experience much more pleasant for all involved!
Ah, do you think he will let me hold his hand when I walk him to school...high school even? :)
