Josiah Andrew is going to be 2 on Monday. I have this baby nostalgia about him that cannot be quenched! I've looked at several pictures of him and watched videos. It's just unfair at how fast his toddler hood has ticked by. As much as I look forward, I cannot look back enough. I always want to be in the moment with him, too. Today he was hysterical, whether he was asking for pie or asking my mom to make him a cup of tea ( out of a proper tea cup, at the proper time for tea mind you), calling my brother Aaron "Guncle" (which I think was because he was trying to say Uncle & Go at the same time), or pairing people up to "fo fight" (karate/kung-fu play fight) he was just perfect Josiah. Just the way God intended him to be. Daring, giving, creative, wild, faithful, stubborn, and smart.
The story of King Josiah is about a little boy who grows into a great king with many of these same attributes.
Here's a verse describing him:
He did what was right in the eyes of the LORD and walked in all the ways of his father David, not turning aside to the right or to the left.
That's always been my prayer for my son, even before he was born. It always will be.
*Josiah has names for everyone. Cameron is Daddy. Mae is "Baby" or "Mae". Grandma is Mom-Mom, Grandpa is Dad-Dad. Aunt Lauren is "Toot-Toot". Uncle Andy is "Dee". Aaron is "Guncle". My parent's white and black cat, Calpurrnia (yes, the extra "r" is supposed to be there) is "Cow cat". There are more, but this leads me to my name: Leigh. Or Momma Leigh. This might offend some- I know it bothers my husband's mom. But it doesn't bother me. He's not too old for it to matter. Leigh isn't a name to him, it's a term of endearment. I know he can say Mommy. Sometimes he says it. But I prefer the whole Leigh thing for now. Once he's old enough he'll call me Mom. Or Momma. I'm not too concerned. *