Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Awawa Boy

Sunday, three of your fingers got caught in one of Maxime's doors when Momsy shut it and I let go of your hands to turn off the light inside the car. Took you about 10-20 seconds before you started crying. And you hated dipping your fingers in cold water... or holding ice.

But at the Church, you feasted on quail eggs, using your injured hand. Later on, you were supporting your body using both hands to swing yourself. I knew then that you'd just be fine.

Monday night, Pappie hit you with one of the car doors... on the face/forehead. But you didn't cry.

I also saw you balancing yourself on the edge of the sofa while watching Momsy sweeping.

Seriously, my son, I am sure other parents will consider you a nightmare of a son because of your exuberance, curiosity and spirit.

Lolo says that you're that way because you're making up for all the activities your father didn't do when he was young. After all, he stayed put for hours wherever you put him. he was that behaved. And that your kind is better compared to quiet, shy, sensitive and sickly babies.

Now, you're sick with coughs and colds. And for some 20 minutes, we were holding a control contest in the CR where Mommy was trying to wash you, and you insisted on throwing tantrums. Nobody won and we both felt ugly and exhausted after. But at least you ate your lunch and I got you to sleep.

Mommy is sorry if she doesn't always have a long fuse. If she doesn't always understand. But Mommy loves you so much. Always. In all ways.

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