My Little Man ...

I believe I may dedicate an inordinate number of posts to that guy on the left. I am not quite sure why.

Sure, he is handsome ...

And his best friend is a wobbly-headed monkey who somehow ends up in my bed each night.

He (the boy, not the monkey) has a bit of an attitude ...

and loves with an intensity that will (literally) knock you over.

He is mischievous, rambunctious, devilish, impertinent, naughty, and unruly...
And the source of every gray hair on my head. He is my undoing, he has challenged me to let down my guard and love more, laugh more, and not be so perfectionistic in my parenting. He makes me unsettled as he hurls himself into the sofa, head first. His vocabulary is on par with my junior high student, but he is making me rip my hair out as he struggles with reading. He is the good, the bad, and the ugly of child-rearing, all rolled into one ball of endless energy, bountiful love, and an exuberance for life I, for one, cannot match. When he turned seven, he announced his attainment of "manhood" and said if he was Greek, he could join the army. (We were studying ancient Greece at the times.) He also informed me I was no longer allowed to touch his tushy (I have a penchant for pinching tiny tushies, but only in a completely normal, legal way) as that was for babies, not men. But, I still feel the warmth of his body next to mine each night, as he crawls under my covers and whispers, "I love you, Mom" and falls back to sleep. He has wormed his way into my soul and makes me ache in my womb when he hurts, so forgive the many posts dedicated to him. It is my way of sharing him with the world.