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The sun wasn’t even completely up. Why was my toddler? I cringed as I walked toward his room. If this was how our day was starting, I had serious concerns about the rest of it.


I wondered, How much patience can a person have? This may be it.

Then I opened the door to see his adorable bed head and sweet smile. And my limit expanded yet again.

For breakfast, he wanted—no, insisted—on gummies. Yogurt was tossed. Toast was fed to the dog. I was sure my tears were going to be cried over his spilt milk.

I wondered, How much patience can a person have? This may be it.

Then he got down from his chair and wiped up the mess with such a sense of satisfaction. And my limit expanded yet again.

He took his time getting in the car, naturally oblivious to the fact we were running late. There were rocks to be found. Rocks he couldn’t bear to leave behind. Rocks he lost in the carseat just before I hit the end of the street. Tears began.

I wondered, How much patience can a person have? This may be it.

Then I handed him a stuffed animal out of desperation and he contentedly pretended to feed it for the rest of the ride—with sweet murmurings of “yum-yum” coming from the backseat. And my limit expanded yet again.

Home again, toys were strewn. A tantrum was thrown. A battle waged over what to eat. (At least that’s consistent.) And nap time was resisted.

I wondered, How much patience can a person have? This may be it.

Then I pulled up the monitor screen to see him finally fast asleep with a book to his side like the passionate little reader he is. And my limit expanded yet again.

With at least one of us fully rested, we trekked down to the park where he wanted this swing. No, that swing. No, that swing currently occupied by another kid. Distracted again, he wanted snacks. Just not the ones we brought.

I wondered, How much patience can a person have? This may be it.

Then he decided to attempt the ladder that always seemed to best him. Except this time he made it to the top and looked back at me with such an expression of pride. And my limit expanded yet again.

We were all happy when daddy got home from work. At least until I tried to sneak away for a few moments and heard cries for “mama” coming from the backyard, despite by husband’s best attempts at helping our little guy overcome his recent regression with separation anxiety.

I wondered, How much patience can a person have? This may be it.

Then I gave it a few minutes (while hidden away in a soundproof corner of the house) before looking out back to see my boys tending the garden with my son eagerly following his daddy’s lead. And my limit expanded yet again.

We ended the day with the routine we all love: a nice bath, session of chase into the bedroom and family story-time. Snuggled up in his pajamas with his beloved blankie in hand, my son collapsed his whole body into mine as I lifted him into the crib.

I breathed in his sweet scent and tried to tell him how much he meant to me. I laid him down, kissed his head and told him goodnight.

Then I lingered at the door. My exhaustion was replaced by something even more powerful: exhilaration with the thought of how lucky I am to live this life with this child. As with every night in the past 22 months, it seemed my heart was about to burst.

I wondered, How much love can a person have? This may be it.

Then, from the darkness, I heard him respond "nigh-nigh."

And my limit expanded yet again.

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