Baby bird.

When I ask Aidan for a kiss, he tilts his head back and opens his mouth..wide. Just like a baby bird waiting for his mama to fill it with tasty worms. I kiss him somewhere between his nose and upper lip. Aidan has Polymicrogyria. It's rarely heard of..because it's rare.

Aidan often reminds me of a little bird. With the way he gives little birdie kisses and shakes his tail feather. He's a rare bird so it makes him different and special. When I feel other children are being unkind or cruel to him....talk about a game of Angry Bird, that's me. Little piggies better watch out for this Grandma bird. It makes me want to pull him into the shelter of my wing. I want to build Aidan a fluffy nest, surrounded by barbwire. But, for how long? Who is going to push him out of this nest? Not me. But, I don't have to because that is Mama birds job. Thank-God. And, she will prepare him and know when the time is right. And scripture says: "Do not worry, look at the birds of the air. They do not sow or reap or store away in barns...your heavenly father feeds them." Surely God has a plan for this baby bird.

Two of my favorite sounds in the early morning are the birds chirping it up with each outside my bedroom window and Aidan's little pitter-patter of this feet walking down the hall to knock on my door, climb in my bed and give me little birdie kisses. It's tweet to my heart.