My Bruiser

My Hebs is a toddler in the truest sense of the word. And it's a little scary to his momma.

He has no sense of balance (he gets that from me, unfortunately), and he doesn't have a clue how to fall gracefully. When he tips over, he always folds at the waist, which means his head--his forehead, to be precise--is the first thing that hits the ground. Last weekend, he "bonked" his head no less than four times--three on pavement outside. The fourth, on the tile bathroom floor, created the lovely goose egg you see in the picture above.

He is very interested in the electrical outlets of late. I am trying to cover them all with child caps, but he then pulls the plugs out of fans, computers, telephone bases, etc.

He loves the toilet. He loves the garbage and recycling cans. He loves to tip books off shelves, and cans out of cupboards. He loves to play in water, mud, and sand.

He is the child that is going to end up in the doctor's office with broken limbs or needing stitches. I will probably blame my grey hairs on him.

He also loves fiercely. He will call out "I wuv you!" at least ten times a day. He gives giant hugs to everyone in the family. He is incredibly compassionate--the other day, I burst into tears over something small (thank you, hormones and exhaustion), and he was right there, touching my face, wiping my tears away. "Momma sad?" he asked, a dear concerned look on his face. "Sad?"

I am grateful to have my wonderful Hebs, even if I can't always keep up with him.