I know my family at least gets a kick out of hearing about the boys and how they're doing so behold- happy news:
Cray K is unbelievably kind at times. He surprises me daily with manners and a sweet demeanor. When he's not pitching fits and being a completely unreasonable two year old, he smiles at me with the biggest grin, reaches up to give me a big hug, or nestles his head onto my shoulder like he would stay there forever if I let him. His teacher at school says he apologizes for everything which makes me feel a little bad because I know he must get that from me. I once apologized to a lean cuisine, after all. Anyway, he often says, "Sorry, Sir" no matter if it's a man or woman or he's done absolutely nothing wrong. It's pretty cute.
He is also counting. I mean, he has been reciting numbers in order for awhile now, but this evening we were reading and I noticed he was counting animals properly. Child genius*.
When his brother is crying uncontrollably, he stops what he is doing and tries to help the situation. He'll bring a toy over and try to get Baby A to smile or play with the toy. He'll offer a paci or give him a hug. These moments warm my heart.
After bedtime stories and prayers, he runs away when I try to kiss him and tell him goodnight, but I know it's just a part of his game. I can tell by the look in his eyes if I dare leave the room without blowing him a kiss and telling him I love him. He waits for it, depends on it. This kid is precious to me.
Baby A is a pistol. He explores everywhere and everything. His motor skills seem to be more advanced than K's were at this age. He mimics and learns quickly when it comes to things as important as play. He discards this trait when it comes to pesky things like discipline. When I tell him no (with my mad face, sign language, and voice), he giggles and pretends he's going to do it again! At least he's cute.
His little walk is the best. Sometimes he leads with his belly. Other times he's walking with his feet extra far apart as if he is a sumo wrestler. Sometimes he'll squat down a little and creep. It cracks me up.
While he isn't exercising his newly found independence from us, he is still my sweet baby who wants to come up and lay his head on my lap. His face lights up when he sees me. It doesn't matter if I just escaped to the bathroom a minute ago or I've been gone for hours. He loves his mama and there is a special place for my middle child in my heart.
(P.S. He used the big boy potty the other day, a feat his older brother hasn't mastered.)
Then there's M. The newest family member is now the size of a banana. I can feel him kicking and squirming around a lot more this week and that makes me happy, too. I have been craving chocolate doughnuts by Merita Sweet Sixteen and nothing else will do. I've looked all over this town and there are none to be found. Booooo. Oh, but anyway, we were talking about the baby...I'm already very much in love with him, too. We selected a name and he's already mine. I wonder what he'll look like, how he'll play with his brothers when he's older, when he'll get his first tooth (Big brother just now developed one at 15 months old!), and if his hair will curl like my other boys' does.
This mama is blessed.
(*perhaps a slight exaggeration from proud mama)