Indulge me for a moment, I am going to tell you how wonderful my second child is. Until the Poopy Pirate was born, I didn't have any idea what we were missing. He was the most wonderful, beautiful baby that was ever born. He was so well behaved and nursed very easily and quickly. I never minded his four am wake up because it was so predictable and easy. His perfectly round little head was covered with so much dark hair that the nurse said, "I've never seen a white baby with that much hair." He had this precious, pensive way of pushing his eyebrows together that a photographer friend once captured perfectly.
Even now, it is hard for anyone to be around him more than a few minutes without saying, "There is just something about him . . ." I was convinced he was a daughter because I felt so close to him the whole time I was pregnant. We put off having him about six months because the timing was so much better if we waited, and of my three children, his was the birth I craved with every part of of my womanly heart. His labor and delivery was the best and fastest of my three. He spoke early and often, his vocabulary still often outstripping his understanding. He is quick to overcome his two year-old moods, often apologizing within minutes of bad behavior. His name, which will not be shared here, is my favorite of three exceptionally fabulous names and when written out in its entirety it looks like Scandinavian poetry, it is so beautiful and uniform. His spirit burst into our family with such a blaze of glory that I still tear up sometimes when I think of how important he is to me. Even my pediatrician said he was one of the most perfectly proportioned babies she'd ever seen and called him the cherub.
Have I waxed poetic enough? Anyway, I don't have favorites among my three excellent little men, and will (and have) undoubtedly gush(ed) over the others in posts future and past, but today P. Pirate takes the cake.
Yesterday I did my twice annual clothing swap and clean out. I went through six Rubbermaid containers of clothing yesterday, putting away almost too small summer things and pulling out almost too big winter things and deciding what new things need to be purchased, thanking my Heavenly Father again for the mellow personality of my second child who seldom gets anything new, and probably never will. Anyway, he found his too small snow boots from last year and insisted on wearing them most of the afternoon. Somehow the snow boots did not get back in their bucket in yesterday's rearrange and Poopy Pirate found them again this morning. He, of course, wanted to put them on again, but this time they ended up OVER his plaid jammy bottoms. I love kids. So here are pictures and the video that took forever to upload. Skip it if you want, but it really is pretty cute if you have a minute to humor a mother who I hope is guilty of too much love for her little freckle nosed boy.
I've also posted some pictures of my kitchen herb garden. A thing I've always wanted. This house has two things I've always desired--a light right above the sink and a large, sunny window for growing herbs. I think the sink light is the coziest thing in the world for reasons I may one day share, and the herbs fill my kitchen with the most pleasant smells and freshness. I've got rosemary, cilantro, chives and basil. The lovely varigated ivy is just an added bonus.