I've been thinking about our little guy and some things I want to remember about this age.
I love that he blinks at me when he is flirting.
I love that he says, "I wuv you!" And when I answer, "I love you too," he has to say, "I wuv you too!" even though he just told me.
I love that he's started saying, "'Cause said so," when we ask him why, even though I'm sure it will drive me crazy when he's six.
I love that if he had a choice he would wear monkey shirts or pajamas at all times.
I love that he knows the names of all the tools in his toolbox and that he keeps shouting, "That's my FAVORITE!" as we walk past things in the hardware store, especially the lawn tractors.
I love the way his eyelashes look when they are wet. And the way he feels snuggled up in my arms.
I love the way he runs at me full force for a hug...or just to knock me over.
I love that he is brave or crazy or both...even if he nearly scares me to death in his climbing, sliding and running.
(He wanted to climb a tree, so I gave him a little help.)
I love that when I put him to bed at night he growls, "Iwuv you!" He has to hold the tag of his baby blanket, he puts his head on a stuffed dog (as a pillow), and he must be holding 'Baby,' a teddy bear with the word baby embroidered on him. He insists that I put him in his 'sleeping bag,' which is a quilt I pulled out for him and called a sleeping bag since his sisters were going to use theirs one night. Then he has to kiss my thumb before I leave. As I close the door, we must blow each other kisses.