Every child is unique.
In my own house, with four children that all share the same exact genes, there are many similarities across the board. However, when I look at each of my children individually, I see a lot of differences.
Take Cameron, for example.
There is just something about this child that I can not explain. Everyone that meets him loves him almost instantly. He has a way with his actions, his mannerisms, his words....it's not really something I can put my finger on, entirely--so it may be hard for me to express in one post exactly what I am talking about--but I am going to give it my best shot.
When you live with Cameron, you hear things like this:
"Mommy? When I was in your belly....did you eat a lot of cauliflower?"
"Mommy, I would like to be a walrus for Halloween next year. They seem nice."
"Mommy? I love you eighty seven percent."
You also hear a lot of *thuds*. When you inquire about said *thuds*, asking something like:
"What in the world are you doing, Cameron?"
You might receive this answer:
"I'm doing some hard damage."
When you live with Cameron, you say things like this:
"I'm pretty sure there is no super hero named 'big-fat-jerk-man', Cameron."
Or:
"No, I don't believe there is ever a time when a fly could beat a tiger, honey." {{pause}} "No....I don't think that a tiger would get sick if he ate a man with only one eye."
"Cameron, what'cha doing?"
"Playing Chinese."
Or, you see things like this:
You ask this question:
"What'cha doing, Cameron?"
And you get this answer:
"Playing superheroes. I'm Diver Man."
{And, yes--those are underpants on his head. Don't worry. They're his.}
You don't.
(By the way, all that stuff cost me less than four dollars....but that's another post for another day.)
He sometimes forgets how big he is, and does things like this:
{Poor Deanna. I'm sure her back ached for days.}
or his Bears backpack from Grandma 'Nette and Grandpa)....
Like the time he offered me some help when I was cutting some onions for spaghetti sauce.
I sure feel lucky that God chose me to be his Mom.