It seems like we spend a handful of blurred and bruised years being a kid and then the rest of our lives thinking back to days gone by and furtively searching for ways to recapture our youth. In other words, wouldn’t it be great to be a kid again?

Will is little more than a year old now and becoming more little-boy-like each day. He giggles when snuck-up-upon, he plays peek-a-boo behind anything, and oftentimes (much to the dismay of mom and dad) enjoys just making noise. Let me clarify that last part a bit: he enjoys making noise simply and purely for the benefit of noise itself. Now that is being a kid!

To assist Will in his daily adventures, I have no choice but to step up to the plate, put on my responsible-dad cap, and play right along with him (come on, why should he get to have all of the fun). And do you know what? It is soooo much fun that I sometimes can’t see straight (that or my aging brain lacks the oxygen from my aging heart and can’t process images very quickly). So each day that Will and I play and dance and read and lay around and just basically be, I can’t help but feel as though I am being a kid again and that is one of the best parts of this whole parenting deal. Sure you have to be responsible, work, pay bills, say “no,” clean the house (though I am not-so-good on this one), and all of the other myriad duties that define being a married, adult, home-owning parent. BUT… you also finally get to taste the sweetness of youth a second time around. And when you cut through all of the layers of being a grown-up, blurred and bruised fun is still there, waiting to get out and roll around a bit.