a few of his favorite things

My youngest sister has always insisted that the straggler gets shafted -- by the time she was cognizant of the family-goings-on, many of us were long gone. But spending my days watching this little boy of ours, the boy who arrived five years behind the previous tail-end to our chaos, I'm thinking that there are more than a few perks to straggling as well. He's coming into his own personality (which is a force to be reckoned with, let me tell you) in the midst of so much motion, and with so many people willing to aid and abet, that it seems he's got the world at his fingertips. He's certainly got all of us at his fingertips: literally, figuratively, gastronomically.

So for today, a few of his developing favorites.

The daddy-made blocks are far and away his favorite toy (although very closely followed by tennis rackets and sticks). My husband made these blocks for our oldest boy for Christmas the year he turned one. Thirteen years and five moves later, can you believe we're only missing three?

Ahh, and then there are rocks. This boy carries one with him at all times outdoors, and generally inside as well. Rocks, dirt, bugs, leaves -- why is it that the scatterings of the outdoors all look appetizing, but creamed spinach does not? I will forever marvel at the amount of mud my kids have very willingly ingested over the years.

I mean, seriously.

Snatching, snatching, sn, snnn, snnnnnatching. What these older kids will happily hand over to him, considering how intensely they fight to ward one another off, is amazing.

Everyone loves the beach and a nice warm tub, I understand that, but frigid water in a bucket? He has even figured out how to turn on the facet upstairs (and open the front door and spin the lazy susan and break glass bottles), and now insists on running water over his outstretched hand while I change his diaper.

Mmmm, dancing. Really, this boy dances like none other. Whenever the music comes on (and whatever music it happens to be), he starts to groove. In his carseat or the crib, on the floor, in outstretched arms -- anywhere and everywhere he's shaking his little bootie to the beat. Last night he started conducting along with the dance, much to the delight of the oldest boy (who does a good deal of air conducting himself).

In the end, however, nothing compares to his Bama blankie. Like all of his siblings before him, this blanket is the first thing he wants in the morning and the last at night, its close at hand while he plays and in his hand when he's upset. A Bama blankie and a mommy snuggle are pretty much the best part of his day, especially when combined.

The combination is pretty much the best part of my day as well.