Those Tiny Little Hands

As a father of two, ensy wensy boys, I have been victim to appreciate things I have become so grateful for. One of those things are two sets of tiny little hands. It is amazing, if I sit back and think, just how many memories I have about their hands.

When Carter needs help climbing down a set of stairs and he reaches up, almost automatically, to grab onto my hand, I feel like he knows I am always there for him even if he isn't looking.

When Jackson needs comfort, he clasps each hand in a little waving motion to let me know, that he knows, I will always come running to give him security.

When I lay with Carter, each night in his bed, one little hand will hold my finger just to let me know he feels safe when I am next to him.

When Jackson sees something he so desperately needs, he points a tiny finger toward it and glances at me because he knows, that I know, just what he is saying.

When Carter is playing the "there's a tickle monster in my pokect" game and those tiny litle fingers run all over me while he says "ticky tickle tick" daddy.

When Jackson is lying beside in bed, nearly asleep, he opens and closes his hand on my face, even if he isn't looking at me, just so he knows that I have not left him and never will.

These two sets of perfect little hands are just a small part of their perfect little bodies. I am very blessed and very grateful I haven't missed a single wave or a reach in my direction or even one little point of a finger.