I try really hard not to label my kids, at least not while they're listening. I don't want them to think that's how they should always be. For example: if I said, "George is my shy child."
I would feel like a fail-mom if he never made any friends because of his tendency towards being shy.
But, since my kiddos hardly read this blog, I feel I can spurt about anything on here without them knowing. Mom-Of-The-Year goes to me, I know. I pretty much dropped that award in my pocket years ago.
So let me just say, my kiddos are gloriously different from one another.
Sometimes I love it. Other times, not so much.
The other day I overheard Henry say to George:
"Hey Georgie, what happens when you're feeling really grateful for something, but you really have to toot?"
Did your eye brows just screw together in a "Did I seriously just hear that?"
Mine certainly did.
Henry's answer: "You have a gratitoot!"
I'm not going to lie, a laugh burst from my lips and I thought to myself, that kid is definitely mine.
I'm so grateful to have Henry. He's clever, witty, charming and always fun.
Happy eight years old, kiddo!