How do you know he loves you? Does he say those three little words?
He doesn’t use his words, but he tells me he loves me, a hundred times a day, in a hundred different ways. He tells me with his eyes, when he wakes up and I’m the first person he sees. He smiles the faintest of smiles, with his puffy morning-eyed slumber and I know I’m the luckiest person in the world. I sneak in a snuggle and breathe in the smell of life from the top of his head, and I wish I could cancel the world and stay in bed with him all day.
He pulls me over to swing, and gestures to help me place him on the seat. I push and push and push, until my arms want to fall off, his entire body at peace. I push him on the swing 100 times in a row. And then one more push after I swore I was done. His happiness, his calm, his squeals of delight - is nothing but a big huge, I love you.
He tells me I love you with his unstoppable strength, when he doesn’t want to work and he is so sick of another session or appointment or therapy. He aches to play outside and be alone. He screams and cries and looks to me to rescue him. I don’t, I tell him, you can do this and I am so proud of you, even though sometimes I really just want to grab him and run away. He tells me that he loves me when he calms down, stops crying and starts to do what is asked of him. His face says, I don’t want to do this today, but I trust that you know what’s right for me momma.