The one constant thing about having three kids is how constantly I get my butt kicked. Transition from zero to one child was by far the hardest. But transition from two to three has been much harder than the transition from one to two. But seriously, I have friends who have six children and thriving. So really, I need to stop blabbering.
Quietness is a gift.
Slivers of solace tucked between other louder, distracting things. A little goes a long way. Like the Belgian dark chocolate truffle I just dropped into my hot cup of coffee. There, it rests. Quiet and wonderful. Like my Hanan. The Lord's grace and mercy, tucked between his faithfulness (Emeth) and steadfast love (Khesed).
A lot of speculations are made about the middle child. But I hope my Hanan grows to know how much he is loved and cherished.
I love his quirky ways.
How he plays with his legos. Here he is making a 10. He has since figured out ways to make 11 and 12.
How he is so keen on making sure I am happy. "Are you happy? Let me kiss you. Are you happy now?"
How he lays claims on anything medium-sized and the number two. Because he is the middle child.
For lunch today, he wanted me to cut his pizza into "medium" bites. If he
wants them bigger, he would say "bigger medium." If he wants them smaller,
he would say, "smaller medium." But they are all medium. Because he is medium.
He ran to me one morning, laughing and shouting, "Mommy!!! I have two problems!!! I don't have one problem or three problems. I have two problems."
How he doesn't know what the word "problem" means.
How he can't seem to talk as fast or as much as his big brother. With a sad face, he said, "I can't talk. I need new batteries."
How he named his "orange thing" Character. As in, "Character! Character! Where are you?"
How he asks for "bread with fig jam and mascarpone" for breakfast. How he loves fig macaroons.
How he says I love you. "I nove you a-not."
And how he loves chocolate. "I nove brownies a-not. Not black-nies, not red-nies, just brownies."