30 Seconds

That's about how long I have to complete any task that I attempt lately. That's how long it takes from the time I set Peter down in one room to play with something, and then hurry off to unload the dishwasher or change the laundry, before I hear the pitter patter of little hands and knees coming towards me. This is my most frequent view of him.

Little hands clinging to my leg and begging to be picked up. (Most of the time, there is a ball in his fist as well.) He is generally pretty happy - as long as he is in my arms or on my lap.

We have started referring to him as either Cling (as in static cling) or Velcro. Both names are fitting as of late. I love that I am his most favorite person in the world. I really do. (I am well aware of how quickly that will change. I'm not sure that I always even make the top 10 list of favorites for my older kids and definitely end up on the least favorite list frequently enough.) But occasionally - just occasionally, I need more than 30 seconds to get something done.