Gushing -- Sometimes its a Must

Warning: this entry is gushy. Really gushy. You may want to avoid if you're not particularly sentimental.

Okay, it's time. I've got to brag a bit, gush a bit, about the most amazing thing in my life. I remember my sister-in-law not too long ago telling me she was in love with her son, and its an apt description. That drive to be near, to hold onto, the never getting enough -- it's all there, in its purest, untainted form. I've been conscious for awhile that's Reed's become a person with unique attributes, moods, and certainly a big personality, but the more he talks, the more its undeniably present. He still looks baby, talks baby, but I'm acutely aware this period is soon gone and retrievable only via this blog, photos, video. And I've recorded really so very little of who he is that I've decided its time to write more, in my voice, in a futile but hopeful effort to render his babyhood permanently. What am I loving right now? Where do I start? Reading "Moo, Baa, LaLaLa" -- the first book he's got memorized -- nearly word for word. His penchant for identifying animals and his contagious excitement over this daily (sometimes hourly) activity. The newest? Giraffe, "elphie" (elephant), the finally identified AS penguins penguins (previously? Ducks), tigers, zebras, raptors, compys (yes, compsognathus, the little guys forever imprinted in the pop culture lexicon via multiple installments of Jurassic Park), the new fascination with dinos . . . the old fascination with doggies and kitties, perhaps his longtime and forever favorites. Bob the Christmas Reindeer. "Sleep" Bear. Elmo . .. and how so. Elmo was first spotted on Sesame Street, then later in the newly acquired Elmo books and tomorrow, his Christmas present from Grammie: Hokey Pokey Elmo. He's seen it already and is a bit terrified, but I guess a screeching, 3-D Elmo that actually does the Hokey Pokey is a bit more intimidating than his screen counterpart. We're a bit worried that this fear is going to translate to Kota the Triceratops, his one (over-the-top but fantastic Christmas present). What can I say? We just couldn't resist (and, at a buck thirty, I can't resist a deal). Here's hoping -- it will make a great video. And the stuff he SAYS -- I spend most days alternately amused and amazed. I'd hoped for a reader, and a talker, and I got my wish. Our favorite? Ask him who the president is, and you're rewarded with an adorably enunciated "Obama". Sometimes, you'll even get a "Barack" with that. "Pinecones, candy cane, fridgerdatter/fridgerbutter (I hope he never learns to pronounce this properly), reindeer, tree, "look, lights!" jewry, stripes . . ." it's difficult to remember and to remember to record. Ed and I wanted to keep a list of all the words he's said, and in what order, and we're pretty behind on that. Since the explosion of talking that began three months ago, we've pretty much managed to make meeting this goal an absolute impossibility. Still, I suppose a few installments as we move forward to preserve the most memorable will have to do. On that note, and a final one, then, I leave you with "love you!" and "kiss!" always proffered after a sweet, sloppy, open-mouthed smack on the cheek. Or head. Or cheek. Or teeth. It's hard to be irritated at all when these priceless gifts are offered throughout the day.