Trucky Love

This boy doesn't have Puppy Love, he has Trucky Love.

Kind of OCD-ish cute, if you ask me.

And reminds me of my friend's boy, "I".  Hi "M", you know I'm talking 'bout you!

Have I mentioned how fabulous this child has been lately?  There was an extremely rough patch him and I went through for 2 solid months, where we were both ready to trade each other in.  It wasn't pretty.  It wasn't worth trying to blog about.  It was painful, ugly and felt like it lasted forever.  But, thankfully, we've settled into a groove.  I wish I could type a blog entitled How Kelle Got Her Groove Back, but I have no idea what happened.  All I know is that the good Lord smiled down on our havoc-wreaked household and relationships and we have felt His peace since.

Nathan is a lot of fun to be around.  I hope the pictures of him and I playing with trucks shows how much I truly enjoy playing with him, because I really do.

He has a very soft side.  Lately, he's been saying, "Momma, I done like to go to work.  I like to stay home wif you, and Kaffwin and Bwandon.  I like it when Kaffwin comes home to pway wif me, when she's all done at school.  Are we going to pick her up soon?  How about dis is the pwan, Momma.  How about after we pway wif all these Monster Twucks, we go pick up Kaffwin?  Dat sounds good.  Ok, Bweak!"

That last part is something he's learned from me.  Many times I feel like either a drill sargent or a football coach.  So, after I gather the "troops" or "team", and give them the pwan (plan), I'll have them all put their hands in the middle of our huddle and declare, "Ok, BREAK! Now Go, Go, Go!"

One other thing he's started doing is reciting bad words.  He really likes to point out when the Beast in Beauty and the Beast says, "I look stupid."  Nathan yells across the house, "Momma, he just said the word stoopid and dats not bery nice.  Some uder bad words are Ho-we Cow and Oh my God.  None of dose words are bery nice are they Momma?  Nooooo, they'we not so we don't say Stupid, Ho-we Cow or Oh my God."

Any amount of reciting the "bad words" without using them in context is fun and acceptable for him.

He's polite to me and strangers and loves to gently run his hands through my hair, all the while asking, "Dat feel good Momma?  I wike to touch your hair, it's soft.  I trywing to be bery careful, Momma."

He's started wanting to play and talk gently to Brandon.  Occasionally, I'll walk in the room and Nathan is giving Brandon a side-head-hug with one arm with the other arm gently caressing Brandon's mohawk.  His hugging hand usually lands somewhere on top of Brandon's eye-range while he's talking soft and sweet to his little brother.

I adore this newly-turned 3-year-old and wouldn't trade him for the world.  He is absolutely precious.