Since February, Carson's personality has become much more clear.
He's a lover and a fighter. He screams and grunts when he's mad and uses a full dinner plate as a frisbee most nights. He kicks. He takes off his diaper and finger paints (!) in his crib.
He pees in our shower. He whines constantly if I'm paying attention to anything or anyone but him. He swings from the chandeliers and draws all over our furniture. He's the tiny gremlin in the house, constantly moving and hiding our shoes, our jewelry, our glasses.
Just about the time I think there is no hope, he does a funny little dance until I laugh with him or join him. We sing together and he lifts his arms for "out came the sun and dried up all the rain." He refuses to use a ladder at the playground; it's more fun to scale the slide from the bottom upward.
I'm watching this kid. He's smart, this one...and I think we could all learn from Carson's book of How to Love Steadfastly and Still Do What Makes Us Happy.
Every night he crawls into my lap, cups my cheeks in his tiny hands, and gazes into my eyes. He says..."Oh, maaaaaaama. Pwitty" and I get a bear hug. And the rest is forgotten.
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