Boys

 Everybody says boys are different.  In to everything.  A girl will look at the book shelf and a boy will tear it apart.  I'm not sure yet if this is the case for us-- since I feel like my girls, at this age, did their share of destruction.  But now that he's up on two feet, and faster every day, he's definitely into EVERYTHING.  I woke up the other night thinking my missing flip flop was definitely at the bottom of a trash bag already taken out, or floating in the girl's toilet.  It wasn't.  But it will be-- some day.  I'm sure.

I just hope it's not my wedding ring or passport, or something more important.

It's crazy how quickly you forget and stop protecting your house from these tiny, bald misfits.  The older ones hit 3 or 4 and you think you can leave bathroom doors open, trash cans exposed, cuisinart blades in the lower cabinet. (!!oops!)  It's like I'm starting from scratch each time.

But when he sticks his tongue out like that--- like he's working so hard, with such fervor and focus--- he can get away with murder. (Let's hope not literally with all the scissors and staplers up above.)  This boy has my heart.