The picture is blurry, but that's how our life is these days. He runs places. He signs and talks and laughs and wails and he's so much.
It's chaos, all day every day, and I'm a big fan of peace and quiet and calm, but this chaos is so beautiful, and I know these are the sounds I'll try to conjure up at the end of my life.
He helps me clean, which isn't much help at all, but I have to let him. I have to always let him try.
There are huge, meltdowny tantrums these days over things like, "no, you cannot hit Molly in the face or no, you cannot eat paper." And there's much whining and sometimes I look at him and say, "You are a handful, child." And I mean it, he's quite a lot.
But he's beautiful and he's hilarious and he's smart.
And he's mine.
Guys, I wish you could know him. You'd love him, I swear it.