I guess he really is mine

The (alarmingly short) list of "things he gets from me" just grew.

It's been a rough morning; full of vomit, scrubbing carpets, crying, wardrobe changes, extra meals, and refusal to eat. (I'll just let you assume that all of those refer to the child and not me.....these are not the things added to The List.)

During nap attempt number 3 for the day (at the incredibly late hour of 10:30am) I went in to check on my normally delightfully sleepy child to find that the-child-who-will-not-roll had turned himself around in his crib so he was facing the window instead of the wall and had successfully smashed his face up against the crib wall in an apparent attempt to escape.

I picked him up and began to settle into our SCP (Standard Cuddling Position) in the rocking chair but he'd have none of it. With his twisting, squirming, & screaming I didn't stand a chance. As I loosened my death grip on The Child, He turned and arched his back, craned his neck and was immediately still and calm.

I stared in his eyes (which are slowly turning brown from the inside out....eat it mailman) and finally saw what he was looking at. The ginormous snowflakes falling outside the window.

Apparently he loves the snow as much as I do.

So in a slightly modified SCP together we faced the window and watched the flakes float down to the street until they stopped.