He is my middle child. He is younger than Kai by 2 years, and older than Elliot by 4 months. He can be incredibly sweet and snuggly.
He can be so silly and cute and funny that he makes me pee my pants.
I have also described him as "testy", "ornery", "difficult", and "hard-headed". But I didn't know just how hard-headed he actually was until this Friday when we were snuggling on our Lovesac beanbag. That was when my dear, sweet, funny, ornery, hard-headed, middle child sat up and then threw himself backward with all his four year-old might. Right onto my face. I knew it hurt like hell, and I knew it swelled up right away, but I didn't think it would be too bad. After all, I've taken a few punches in my day. It happened at about 10am. This is what I looked like at 1pm:
This is what I looked like at 5pm:
And this is what I looked like on Sunday morning:
Happy 4th of July everyone! I'm pretty sure I saw stars before any of you did. And if any of you wanted to know a way to make your husband not want to go anywhere with you in public for at least a week and a half -- I have discovered it, but I don't recommend it.
