My boy.

I love being the mother of a boy, soon to be plural. One day Clark (and Griffin) will be a man, a husband, a father. One day he might walk his daughter down the aisle. He will provide for his family, just like his father did for him.

But for now, my boy wants to climb on the sink in the bathroom and push his car up and down the mirror making vroom vroom noises. I love him so much, so unconditionally, that I could never understand how, or why, my Father loves me much more than I could ever love my own children.