This morning at about 6:30, it started raining. I guess I'd gotten up about 6ish to let Kitty out (who was meowing in the living room, right at the folding door) so I turned off the alarm from my phone and went to let him outside. Got back in bed and couldn't sleep, so of course I did the completely logical thing and look at wikipedia entries on everything from US presidents to various historical calamities that have befallen humankind. Twenty minutes later, it started pouring. I assumed it was just a run of the mill rainstorm, but suddenly the loudest crack of thunder clapped outside - scaring me and unfortunately, Cooper. The millisecond the thundercrack stopped, he started crying. Now, it's not easy raising two little kids, but somewhere in the folds of frustration and never ending joy, you always want to comfort them. I ran to him as fast as I could. Mostly to try and make sure he knew everything was ok but albeit, to keep him from waking his baby brother as well. He sat up and tearfully said "I want to go in your room". Normally this is a no-no, but thunder IS scary (even to me) and clearly there was no other solution. I scooped him up, walked into our room, put him in the bed between me and Aim and tucked the sheet and blanket over him. He let out this little gushing sound - one that is an unmistakable sound of his smile that he's made all his life. He makes it when you hug him. He makes it when you hold him. Even in the dark of our room, I knew he was smiling. I will never forget that sound. I'm sure it's one he'll grow out of, because I can't imagine making that sound if I was happy, so I have to do all I can to document it. I'm sure I've recorded it somewhere, on some video I'll have to go find one day, but it's one of the happiest sounds I'll ever hear in my life.
Conner on the other hand, has briskfully entered the terrible two's. The only good thing about it though is that he's so alert, and even though every other thing is a fit, he's constantly trying to tell you something. Too bad I rarely understand. He's constantly going on these long, rambling explanations that are usually rebutted with me saying what I thought he said back to me, then him saying something like "No, no... bleee bluugrg me um are... Spiderman.. Buzz... WeeWee...". Still he just recently started this incredible thing. When we're putting on his little shoes or tiny pants through gritted teeth or while biting our lips in frustration, he says "Cheese!"to us. It means he wants us to smile. That way, he thinks we're not mad. I don't know if I can speak for Aimee here, but I can definitely say more times than not, it's worked on me.
So whatever I'm doing when I'm reading this. How old I am, or how old you are - "Cheese!" It's not that bad. Life's pretty good. Life is wonderful. Because these tiny little shoes are getting bigger every day.
Cheese!
