My favorite time to watch him is when he thinks no one is paying attention. Sometimes he just sits in front of the tv, really watching.
It might be Dora or Diego, or a Baby Einstein that he's seen 100 times. It doesn't seem to matter. He watches like he's never seen it before. It just makes me smile because it's such a grown-up thing.
This afternoon, I came out of the bathroom and he was sitting in the rocking chair, head resting on his hand, legs crossed, watching Dora. He looked so sweet. I had to walk over and give him a kiss just because. Because he's mine. My son.
He's been playing in his room, alone, more often. I'll find him in there playing with his tractors or sitting at his desk, drawing a picture. He takes his chalk and scribbles on the chalk board, checks it out, and then erases part of it. Like he's making a masterpiece and wants to get it just right.
Tonight, we were playing in the sand box. He would take his shovel and fill up the empty flower pots with sand. He'd scoop up some sand, and distribute it evenly between the three pots. Then he would pick them up, dump them out and start over again. He'd have to check one last time to make sure they were empty before filling them again.
Sometimes, I sit in the rocking chair and just watch him. He's got a busy day planned, and wants to get everything done. I just sit, and watch and smile. He's my son. My little man.