On Saturday, I was spending the day at Rocket Scientist's parent's house. Bug was really enjoying playing with a shape ball. I'm actually not really sure what it is called, but it is a plastic ball with shapes in it that come out when you pull on the two ends. Then you put the shapes back in in the holes on the ball. I hope you all know what I'm talking about...
Anyway, he was enjoying playing with that, but he didn't know how to get the shapes back out. He would give the ball to me, and pat either the floor, or a chair, or the coffee table. Wherever he wanted the shapes to be. This is one of the many "signs" that only me and him really understand. At one point I headed off to the bathroom. When I almost get to the door, I hear, "Mom? Mom??" Awww, my heart almost melted... Before this, he would call for Daddy, but he would hardly ever call (more like never...) for Mom if he needed help. He would just chase after me and force the toy or whatever into my hand. I went back, he gave me the ball thing, and patted the coffee table, and I let out the shapes.
Times like this make me truly appreciate that even though my youngest child died, I still have a cute little guy around to lift my spirits.
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