boy oh boy

Last night I scooped Davy up from his crib, and as he grabbed his blankey and snuggled into my shoulder I thought, "He smells like a baby."

Too often anymore he smells like what he is: a rambunctious little boy. His hair seems to be always messy, his shirt always dirty, his socks always missing.

But last night he was fresh from the bath clothed in Johnson's pink baby lotion and clean jammies. I snuggled him close to me and breathed in deep.

He's different than his sister was, this boy of mine. Boy, oh boy (!) is he different. He's into everything, all the time. He's mischievous and silly. His patience is short and his temper is quick. He likes to explore and push boundaries. He races to the fridge every time it's opened to try and play inside. He messes up his sister's room. He dumps things on the floor. He runs around in a circle and waits for us to laugh.

He makes me tired.

But he's sweet too- so darling and sweet. He grabs his blankey and comes running to my arms one hundred times a day and we snuggle and snuggle and snuggle. He points to the Cheerios box on top of the fridge and then laughs and does a little happy stompy dance on the kitchen floor while I pour some into a cup for him to take on whatever adventure he's going on next. (I'll find Cheerios in my purse later.)

I can't wait to see where this boy takes us and how he'll teach us. Already the stockpile of toy cars and dump trucks is beginning to rival the princess shoes and tiaras.

I just hope I'll be able to keep up.