Growin' and Groovin'

Goodness, gracious. I love my little boy, he's my baby. He's playful and sweet, and generous in his affection for me. He will be turning three in a little over a month and I'm beside myself with baby fever. I see babes on the street, chubby in all that chunky thigh and biscuit kind of way, snuggled into their mother as if there lives depend on her (which in fact they do), and I'm bowled over by my irrational desire to have another.

Instead of focusing on my son's diminishing chunky thighs, I'll focus on the positive....a  real baby (for the sake of this post, I'll say 0-12 or so months)  can't stand on the couch in their big boy underoos singing Rolling In The Deep by Adele while flexing their muscles , now can they?

(Love you more than I can physically stand it, Maxton. You are a wonderful little man.

Love,
Mama

P.S. However, it is time to put an end to the spontaneous screeching and squeaking. The neighbors are getting restless.)