and hard-headedness. But at the very beginning and end of the day, he
can be such a cutie.
At night, we change his diaper one last time and put him in pajamas.
Usually, he's had a massive meal, so his belly is quite distinct, and
shoved into a onesie, he waddles around very adorably. He now knows
to seek out everyone in sight for one last hug and kiss, and then
willingly is taken up into my or Amy's arms, brought up to his room
for one final prayer, and then into his crib, where he will cradle his
bear and lie on his tummy to be tucked under his covers.
In the morning, so long as we don't wait too late to the point of
crabbiness, he is in good spirits when he sees one of us. His face
turned downward because of the light, yet he still raises his arms
upward in the universal sign for "up." We go straight to our living
room for cuddles, his warm body a welcome relief in our frigid house.
On weekends, I'll often let him watch TV while sitting on my chest,
while I fall back asleep safe in the knowledge that he won't move from
his perch.
Of course, within minutes, the cuteness all wears off and tantrums
begin; and all throughout the day, the explosive temper is never too
far away. But the first and last few minutes of each day can often be
a dream.
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