I love the way he sleeps with his bum in the air.
I love the way he collapses ont he floor and buries his face in his hands when he has a tantrum.
I loe the way he saqy 'hiya man' to every man int he supermarket he passes
I love the way he say 'hiya Bob' to any man in a hard hat.
I love the way he runs down the corridor giggling with no clothes on after a bath (that little fat bum is so cute!)
I loe the way he squeezes me when he cuddles.
I love the way he says 'Mummy do x too' whenever he has to do something.
I love the way he draws a squiggle on a page, burst out laughing and says 'dinosaur'.
I love the way he raises his eyebrows out me Roger Moore style (the things we teach our children to do .
You've all convinced me that there is anough love to go round. What, however, if the next one is horrid. Everyone told me hhow hard babies are, how terrible the terrible twos are etc etc. It has all been 100% wonderful becase DS1 is so perfect. If we go on Chaos theory then for all chaos there had to be some order. What if for all perfection there has to be some horridness.
I remember a friend telling me that for each month, age you think that it can't get any better - your child has reached the perfect age. However it does. I keep thinking that being a mother can't be any more wonderful, but it justs keeps on getting more wonderful, she was right!
p.s. - did I mention how much I love him?!