What I Love About Michael

He’s so good-natured. He’s so quick to smile, and it’s such a cute smile too. He loves to laugh, and unless he’s feeling bad–hungry, tired, achy, or generally overwhelmed by his siblings–he just doesn’t fuss a lot. (Of course, when he does throw a tantrum it takes an unattractive form; he slowly and carefully bangs his head into the floor and then wails all the louder. I always tell him I have no sympathy. But the tantrums don’t last long. Yet, anyway.)
The way he makes his desires known. He’s quite slow to start talking, yes, but he is very specific about pointing. When you bring his food to the table, he points to the specific spot on his tray where he wants it: “Put it there, please.” Looks down, looks up.
The way he shakes his head “no” to mean “yes.” Stinkin’ adorable.
His physical prowess. I wasn’t prepared to have a 10-month-old walker–the rest of my kids reached that milestone quite considerably later–but it’s something else to watch an early walker keep exploring the world. He’s climbing ladders on the playground that none of my other kids even looked at until they were 2 1/2. Of course, that makes him more dangerous, too (he keeps climbing a ladder that’s up on our deck), but still, in between near-heart-attacks I am filled with wonder.
He loves to be tickled and chewed on. Alex and I both get the joy of making him giggle–deep, full-throated belly laughs that can’t fail to make you smile.

There’s nothing quite like little boys, and I’ve been triply blessed.