He loves.

Did I ever mention how sweet my Summit is? It's probably easy to forget based on my post about boys being gross, but, really, he is a love.

He loves people and seeing them smile and making them laugh and laughing at the world and laughing at himself (like today when he farted in his carseat). He loves his daddy and me so very much, and he tells us this all the time. "I love you so so much. I love you more. I love you the most." He loves his sister, and he kisses her goodbye every morning before she leaves for school. If he misses his chance, he cries and cries for her to come back. He loves playing with her. It's one of the highlights of his day. He loves his Leenie and his Papa and his Popi and his Babi. He loves his Aunt Katie and Uncle Justin and cousins, Kelley Rose and Dean. He loves his Uncle John  and Uncle Kent. He especially loves to drive his crazy Uncle Kent crazier than he already is. If you know Kent, this is pretty funny to watch.

He loves his friends at school... the boys and the one special girl. He loves his neighbors and all of his other buddies, and he has lots of those. He loves his ladies at the gym... Kathy (who bears the mark of his biting stage) and Shannon and Andy... they have always loved him back and given him everything he wants (well, Andy doesn't always give him what he wants, but he still loves her).

He loves his dog, Mercy Lou the Cockapoo, and her Uncle (dog) Blue. He loves the cats, Lily and Dumbledore, so much that he tries to give them baths and feed them water out of the toilet (they do not love this).

He loves his dinosaurs, especially Sarah the Triceratops, and his Toy Story toys. He did not love when Ella threw Jessie (from Toy Story) on the roof, where she remains. He loves playing with his Legos. He loves playing outside and inside. Swimming pools and lakes and parks and playgrounds. He loves make believe and telling stories. He loves when people read him books, mostly those about dinosaurs. He loves when we sing his goodnight songs and we love when he sings them back to us. He loves his bed. It was his GG's. He loves snuggling. He really loves his 'Old Pillow' that my friend, Brook, gave to him. I love it, too. It's tattered and worn and dirty and most definitely infused with every germ ranging from salmonella to ecoli, but it smells like my baby Summit.

He loves sleeping and early mornings and breakfast bars (this is probably because he wakes up so early some mornings that we refuse to make breakfast before the sun rises, so we give him a bar to tide him over), O. P. meal (oatmeal), and bubble baths with his dinosaurs. He loves asking questions and getting the answers. "Mommy, do sharks jump?" "Yes." "How?" "Ummm." He loves learning about the world and new things.

He loves comforting people when they are sad, and he loves sharing with them and making them happy. Just the other day, at the park, he picked a flower, and got down on one knee in front of me and said, "Here you are my lady."

He loves. He loves. He loves his life and I love mine even more because he's my little boy.