LOOK AT ME I'M CUTE

it's like he knows that he's been driving me a little bit nuts lately, as if he read what I wrote about him a couple weeks ago and is on some sort of crazy cuteness campaign. he's turned the charm on high, folks and is hitting me daily with great doses of cuteness-- doses that render me powerless and reduce me to mushy-gushy mommy. and really, I'm not the mushy-gushy mommy type. well, maybe just a little. further proof:

1. the picking up of ava's teeny tiny black plastic barbie phone: holding it carefully to his ear, he whispers, "heh-woh?" the pause and sideways glance tell me just how much he believes someone will be on the other end to answer.

2. the praying: before gobbling down slices of pizza sunday night, he clasps his hands together and shuts his eyes.

3. the demand for equal treatment (as well as the first signs of art-loving): the sight of ava busy at work with her paper and crayons compels him to yell out, "daw! daw! DAW!" the ez wants to draw and who am I to deny him?

4. the cry for help: ezra often finds himself stuck, a sock caught on something, a hand stuck in a jar. which, in turn, causes him to look at me with concern and cry out, "guck! I GUCK!" I am slow to help him because I love to hear him say GUCK.

5. the quirkiness: he randomly acts like a chicken.

6. and the affection: he's blowing kisses. and saying nigh-night and bye-bye. and kissing mommy when requested.



and now he's voluntarily playing in his crib, happily pitching balls over the side and content to hang out with a couple of toys. this is bound to last all of 48 seconds, but still. it's as if he's saying, "see? I know I'm hard work and all, but look at how CUTE I AM, LOOK HOW GOOD I CAN BE. I dare you, woman. I dare you to RESIST MY CHARMS."

you're telling me, kid.