Little feet scamper over, chest puffed out like he's being pulled from his naval. He half stops himself on/half bashes into the window sill as he strains to peer outside.
"Dog dog?" He whispers out in hushed anticipation. "Oof oof?"
I feel bad for a moment. I'm tricking him, just getting him away from his older brother (ie, the punching bag) for a moment to give P a small reprieve.
I start to point out the things that really are outside: Trees, car, blue sky, birds.
I hear "voom" and "boooo!" and "toot toot!" and watch as he smiles and claps. His world is so big, full of so much wonder and promise!
A second later he's turned off the tv, smacked P in the chest, and climbed onto the dining room table.
*Sigh*
That boy is amazing.
*****
"Mommy, look at my tooth! Look how loose it is!"
I call him over and reach in to wiggle his tooth, the same one the dentist told me would be out by Christmas.
"Wow, it's so loose it's like you could almost pull it out!"
He reaches in. He yanks it out.
I jump, exclaiming, "HOLY CRAP YOU JUST YANKED OUT YOUR TOOTH!"
He grins as I calm myself, quickly backtracking back to mommy land.
"Oh, uh, what a big boy you are! Look, you lost a tooth! Uh, great!"
He's so proud. He asks me to take a picture, and I do but I refuse to post or even look at it as his gum is bleeding profusely.
I probably should learn to watch what I say.
*****
I rock and rock and rock. I had tried, unsuccessfully, to get him to fall asleep without me. He's not ready yet, but someday he will be. He will be.
And for now we rock together, him cuddling up into my chest, softly babbling, and me hugging him and reading off my Droid from behind his head.
Sometimes I laugh, which causes him to jolt up laughing himself. He doesn't know why I'm happy but he doesn't care. Mommy is laughing so the world is a fun place!
Sometimes he plays too much and after a few warnings I place him in his crib and leave for a minute. I take a much needed breather, often using the restroom or taking a couple bites off an apple, and I go back in. He is upset but he calms instantly in my arms, and he's asleep a moment later.
I place him in his crib and he snuggles in to the flannel sheets. I leave quietly. It may be a 20 minute nap, or it may be 2.5 hours. Either way, as silly as it is, I miss him when he's not in my arms.
*****
He's so big now, writing his name, changing his sheets, putting away his laundry, setting the table, vacuuming, getting dressed, etc.
And yet he's still so little!
P is in a question phase, a "who what where when why why why why WHY" phase. And while it can drive me absolutely nuts, and while I find myself putting restrictions on his questions, I still love it. He's growing, but he's still so innocent!
Sometimes I think back to "baby Paxton" and everything we've dealt with and the difference is astounding!
He used to be obsessed with my upper arm and armpits. He'd sniff and kiss and lick and pinch and scratch and poke, and squeeze sooooo tight! It was... odd. But it was a comfort thing for him. And it was constant. And he hasn't done it in over a year now.
We used to not be able to leave him alone even for a minute. He would break something, somehow. Intentionally. It was nervewracking and frightening and we were so worried for his safety and our future. And now? He has about an hour to himself every morning. A couple weeks ago he wrote on his wall with Sharpie, and sometimes he makes a small mess, but in general he's a total angel and he's perfectly happy to let me and Ambrose sleep while daddy goes for his morning run. I didn't think we'd ever be able to leave him alone, at least not until puberty or beyond!
And singing! This boy didn't sing until around age 4. We were so worried there was a cognitive delay! But oh does he sing now, which is wonderful because Ambrose is quite a little singer himself and they keep each other entertained in the back seat.
He's growing. And more and more he's our friend and our buddy and somehow just about your ideal child, sweet and polite and witty and funny and intelligent and very, very loving. Everything we'd hoped for.
Oh... and a couple days ago I came downstairs to find a gift from him. He'd wanted to write me something, so he messed with the computer until he got to Google, where he knew he could write. Then he spent Lord knows how long typing up "hpemtrzda". Get it? Happy Mother's Day. He spelled it out and found all the letters on the keyboard, no prompting and no help.
So proud. So, so proud :)
*****
Still eagerly anticipating our third, and in the meantime utterly enjoying P and A, my sweet little charmers.
(A couple hours ago as I was settling P down for nap in his bed. Totally unprompted and not posed, just a normal scene from our daily life. They love each other so much!)
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