He's so much like his dad, with his strong stubborn streak and his disinterest in eating full meals and his desire to always be outside, no matter the temperature.
He says "outside outside outside" while banging on the front door until you take him out, but he still doesn't say "no" or "mama" regularly. He has priorities people and they involve sunshine and sticky, humid fresh air.
I hardly see myself at all when I look at him, although occasionally, sure. But he's Mike's son, and nothing reminds me more than this: my lord, he absolutely loves the water.
When you ask him if he wants a bath, he'll always get to the bathroom before you, standing with his arms up, waiting for you to take his shirt off. He scoots toward the back of the tub, where it's harder for me to reach him, if he's not ready to get out. (Sneaky little....) He think it's hilarious when you spray him with water or dump a cup over his head. He'd like to return the favor, but I like that far less than he does.
This weekend was insufferably hot. I was sweating as soon as I stepped outside, but when Mike got the idea to set up a sprinkler in the front yard, I've never seen my kid so happy. Silver linings: they're soaked and dripping and grinning from ear to ear.
I've been missing his babyness a lot lately because look at that boy! He's practically ready for school! I want just a few of those teeny-tiny baby days back. But then I see him screeching with glee over a few gallons of water, and I can almost see the teenager he'll one day be, wakeboarding or spending entire months at the lake, and I think goodness, there's so much to look forward to.