My sweet, mild-tempered little boy now has grown a personality that is much bigger than I anticipated. Always, I find myself cleaning up again and again the new and sometimes not new objects of his curiosity (which seems to have no bounds). Or there are times when my angel becomes a hot-tempered being of the underworld and throws himself on the floor without a care as to whether the impact will cause injury to his poor little noggin. And there are times still when he feels no fear and heads straight for the most dangerous option possible, giving heart attacks freely to all adults present.
Needless to say, I am exhausted all the time, but in a good way, because I have never been so happy or felt so blessed in my life than when that little boy- my little boy- smiles at me like I'm the greatest, most fun, and lovable person in the whole world.
And of course a video of my wild child: