Sometimes

Sometimes, when it's 5 o'clock and he still hasn't taken a nap despite my multiple efforts and he's having a meltdown because I was trying to feed him yogurt without letting him hold the container (or I let him hold the container or maybe it was that I fed him the yogurt that he wanted), I wish we could go back to when he would fall asleep in my arms and I wouldn't get a single thing done because I'd just spend an hour staring at him sleeping.

And then he gives me his cheesy, scrunchy-nosed grins while stuck in a pot he dragged from the kitchen into the front room and I realize that as much as I miss him smelling like bliss and being tiny and cuddly, I love him more and more each day.