But oh, what a brain my boy has. He's unbelievably intelligent and strides ahead of where he should be in speaking and potty-training and athletic ability. He can dribble a soccer ball like a 10-year old and flick through word books like a pre-schooler. He's so tall and strong that people mistake him for a 3-year old. So two traits that define him right now I would say, are that he's headstrong and intelligent.
Like a typical boy, he loves cars and trains and balls. He loves to climb and eat dirt and play rough-house. He loves to splash like a lunatic in the bath but will dive out head-first if you so much as get a drop of water in his eyes mid-rinse. My favourite play-times with him are when he plays monster and chases me, growling argggh as he runs and when we play soccer together.
Since not all of his bottom teeth are in yet, he has a lisp and when he leans into me and says "kithes" for a kiss my heart turns into a big blob of mush. Much the same as it does when he twiddles my hair between his fingers or reaches up and gently pinches my nose when I change his diaper. He also shows his soft side with his blankie (a Backyardigans soft blanket), which he must have and must sleep with. I never had this with Jack, but Danny has a huge Linus-like attachment to his blanket and we have to wash it when he's asleep.
He's a happy boy and such a character that every day we all swap Danny stories of things he's done or said. Like last night he nearly dropped a toy and he said "close one!" I could watch him all day long I really could. He's that entertaining. But at night when he goes to bed with his blankie I stroke his hair and sing Danny Boy to him and he becomes my baby. Because for all that he looks and acts older, this little cherub is not even two yet and he's our beloved baby boy.
2nd photo by Jodi Miller