But this boy . . . he lives in a cocoon of utter doting. So many are constantly at the ready to cater to his whims and humor his every desire. So many to praise, and ooh and ahh over his every word and action.
He’ll grow up of course. He’ll become more of a peer to his siblings. He won’t always be handed every toy, and rushed every treat; met with a chorus of adoring “good morning”s and sent off with overly-exuberant “good nights” from all.
But my goodness. What a lovely way to spend your first years of life. What a happy way to come to this earth: as a little sixth child.
And . . . a few other moments from the first weekend in October (one I was convinced would see us playing by the lake . . . as opposed to bundling up in coats and mittens):
When we looked back through our pictures, the kids thought this little offering was hilarious. I love Schleich animals and was just trying to capture a few of the ones Anders was playing with, but, apparently, the image looked like the horrible aftermath of a dog-gone-wild farm scene.
And, I think I’ve mentioned before how ridiculous it was that my initial impression of Mike was one of someone a bit cocky and unfriendly. Nobody exists who is more kind and good than my Mike. Still, every now and then, I catch a glimpse of him that I can see might make someone think he was . . . I don’t know . . . someone very different from who he is.