My son is a total sweetheart. He's always telling me how much he loves me and worries about me when we are not together. With pride, he helps me around the house and at the store. He's a mama's boy, and my right-hand man.
(Well, left-hand, I suppose. He has to stay on that side because he's a lefty; otherwise we'd be bumping each other's arms all the time.)
I love to see how he treats others. He held open the door, unprompted, for a woman in a wheelchair when we were in Disneyworld. In addition, he struck up a conversation with her, smiling that great big smile he has, and made her smile, too. A card from one of his teachers included the line, "Thank you for always being so polite." He gets along with nearly everyone. He truly views everyone as his friend, and is very kind and outgoing.
(Well, most of the time.)
I love age six because he can do so much, and is getting old enough to have really interesting conversations with me. We're reading and doing math problems together, and it's a really exciting time in his life. He was a great baby, but in all honesty, I don't miss the infant stage at all. However, I do have a confession to make.
I was looking through some of his toddler photos recently, and my heart completely melted. Like mini marshmallows in a cup of hot cocoa.
Cases in point, from age 2:
There was a video, too, which was the real kicker, but I can't find it now. Anyway, he's still a cutie, but ermahgerd. Can't he go back to being that little like, once a month or something?
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