The weather has been beautiful the past few days. Warm with no humidity and breezy, breezy, breezy. The nights have been cool and perfect for summer sleeping with the windows open wide.
During daylight hours, Hugo thinks of our bed as his personal jungle gym. He rolls about across its surface. Daily perfects his jumping technique and somersaulting posture. He hides among the pillows all ET like, waiting patiently for me to spy him. He also constructs tunnels under the quilt and leaves little boy toy treasure behind for me to discover.
With the windows wide open Hugo has learned that the sheer curtains blow over the bed with the wind. He hasn't spoken the word wind yet. When the wind blows and he feels it against his skin he'll tell me that, "It's cooollld" and hug his arms to his chest, even if its hot out. Silly boy. Hugo doesn't understand that the wind is moving the curtains. He gets pretty upset when he tries again and again to right the curtains or to simply keep them from covering his current line up of cars. I wonder what his brain is telling him about these pesky curtains? Could they be alive? Could they be possessed? Could they have it out for him and his cars? I find it pretty amusing to watch him battle with the blowing curtains. He bats at them with his hands and arms. He'll yell at the sheer curtains saying, "Stop!". If they continue to persist for too long he'll even use his monster voice.
This week Hugo expressed something new about himself and I've been provoking him ever since to hear his words again.
Tuesday night after Hugo's bath I wrapped him up in his towel and carried him to his dressing table. I hugged him close and set him down to towel him off. He likes the towel to remain covering most of him as I do this because he thinks he's cold. So anyway, I started to massage lotion into his skin like I have after all his previous baths. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by his littleness and how he is my son. Memories of his baby self flooded in and I felt so much love for him. I began to tell him that he was my baby, my special baby and how much I loved him and I'm sure I would have gone on and on except he interrupted me. He said, "I boy!" I stopped and starred at him and went wow, how did he figure that out? I told him he was right, that he was my baby boy. Nope. He didn't like that. He piped right up again with, "I boy!"
