Then he handed me this Iowa quarter.
This boy is as stubborn as all get out and leaves me at my wit's end some days, but buried beneath the fire he is sensitive and thoughtful and kind. A few weeks ago he followed me as I went outside because he wanted "to make sure you are never by yourself, Mom." (Thank you?)
He wants to sit on my lap every day (he's sitting on my lap as I type this), loves rocking with me on the front porch and talking about important stuff, gets mad at me if I don't leave him something to stir when I am cooking, and has the best dimple in his right cheek. He has to be smiling a big and genuine smile to be able to see it, so glimpses if it can be rare since most of the time when I ask him to smile he does this instead:
Because at his core he is a major goofball. If you want to get him laughing uncontrollably, just mention any type of bodily function. That's one sure-fire way to catch a glimpse of the dimple.
He asked me recently, ""Where did I come from? Did you get me at the kid store? I was sad when you got me."
"Why? Weren't you happy to be picked up by our family?" I asked him.
"No, I wanted to be picked up by Daphne Anne's* family."
*our friends who moved to Montana earlier this summer.
We may be his second-choice family, but I tell you, that moment on his birth day when I realized I got to be a boy mom, his mom; that was a great day. I'd pick him from the kid store any time.
|same birthday banner from his 1st birthday!|