Every morning we have a routine of getting up, having tea and rusks in our pajamas, sometimes in the dark and only the candles burning, watching the sunrise over the sea.
Then we do some reading or just sitting. We get dressed and as soon as those little feet hit the ground with his shoes on, he points outside and we have to go for our morning walk.
Even if it’s cold, even when it rains… (Well then I ‘try’ to explain that we can’t go out. We can, but mama won’t…)
He doesn’t want to sit in his pram, or ride his push-car-bicycle. He wants to walk. By himself.
We do a beautiful path of about 1.5km that takes 1.5 hours to walk…… He stops and play as we go, showing me everything, exploring.
Soon he’ll run this route, so for now I try my best to savour the slowness and this stage of his life, because it’s beautiful and perfect.
I love the wonder in his eyes of everything around.
And I love how his pants are still too big for him.
And that face he makes, it’s his face when I take photos of him close-up.