how they linger, how they ever touch my soul... (my fave Randy Travis song...)
These last few months have rolled by on the waves of change. I blinked and Max started really talking...following many of his caveman sentences with "Now." Not in a demanding way, just a simple, "Mi, now." "Book, now," "Bite, now." (A mi is his binkie...gotta love kid speak.) I blinked again and Sam started crawling, pulling up, feeding himself, gibbering earnestly in babyspeak and turning ONE! Mercy moved on to speaking in paragraphs, determining her wardrobe and garbing herself in many jewels. Charley continues to amaze with her giant heart, crocodile tears, beaming smiles, quirky personality...and growing up by turning FIVE! Eva has turned a proverbial corner, leaving all traces of little girl behind and rooting herself firmly as a young lady.
Ah, Sam...Sam, Sam, the munchkin man, Mama loves her little man!
Your smile just goes on for miles, my son. Your joy beams from every pore of your chubby self. Tank is my favored nickname...as you are my only child that just jumped off the growth chart and into future linebacker land. Your curiosity is epic, your skill at discovering new ways to investigate taboo places is causing Mommy heart palpitations, your appetite is bottomless and your snuggles are beyond precious. Speed crawling is your latest skill, followed by a burning desire to stand on your own. A few seconds of standing on your own makes your smile even bigger, if THAT is possible! You are Mommy's little man and you get quite incensed when I leave your sight or spend too much time away from your presence. You have Mommy radar and when I return home from an outing, you are the first one to come speeding toward me with a grin and a ready snuggle! (Max and Mercy are usually on your tail, fighting over who gets to hug the Mommy first. I feel the most important person EVER and it's completely fabulous.)
Your smile is framed by an adorable set of 6 teeth, 4 uppers and 2 lowers...soon to be joined by the eye teeth that are interruping your precious sleep. Your hair is stinking marvelous, just like your big brother's and you have a cute, albeit annoying, habit of constantly running your hands through it with food on them, which results in hysterical hair wings the likes of which I have not seen since Max was about your age. Your are quite a sweaty little baby, which I attribute to your tanklike stature and full head of superb hair. Your siblings still think the sun rises and sets on your charming self, which you use to your fullest advantage...although you get quite a rise out of Max when you pull his superb hair. (WHAT is that, only my boys get the good hair?) I sense a future filled with instigating while beaming a cherubic countenance, followed by a "who, me? I would never do that Mama..."
