Jace was a sweet little boy who loved to cuddle and swing and get his tummy tickled.
He liked to sleep on Dada's chest and knew all the names of any construction truck you can think of before I did.
He still is a cuddler...sometimes.
He still likes to be tickled...sometimes.
He not only knows construction vehicles, but planets, weapons, and probably the anatomy, eating habits and mating rituals of the Nile crocodile.
He isn't much of a swinger anymore, but loves to climb all over any playground, grouping of rocks, fences...whatever. He's not picky he just wants to see how he can end up on top, especially if he's not supposed to be.
He comments on my driving ability daily. He even likes to turn my car around when we're playing life so that it better fits my normal driving skills...bad. He watches when I play computer games and laughs when I lose.
He cuddles as close as he can to listen to stories and wanted to look at pictures with me tonight, to remember when he was a baby. He loves to cook with me. He loves to walk with me. He loves getting tucked in by me.
He's loud. He screeches and does bird calls. (If you're a turkey hunter I really think he could help you out.) He eggs on his siblings and laughs when they're sad. He cries when they hurt him or even when his feelings are hurt.
WHAT do I do with him?
I love him fiercely.
But, what do I do with him?