oh sweet enzo. you are adding gray hairs to my head by the day.
your favorite entertainment, which is cute when holding a soft ball outside, is throwing. but this is oh-so-painful when holding your papi's workboots and the target is my head or the mirror.
you love to go outside and will wait in the foyer holding your jacket and shoes until someone notices you. or until we hear you throwing those shoes at the door. or the mirror.
you have started to talk all the time, but we have yet to hear a real consistent word. please keep it up enzo, because that babble is so fun to hear.
when you are mad, that 15 month old body flails to the floor, your legs slapping and stomping. it is a bit funny. it is more than a bit exasperating. i want to help you, but this is so hard for both of us. i need to remember that every chubby-handed face slap and lightning-fast food swat and seemingly-forever nap strike is an opportunity to love you.
and you stand there with that goo-face and my heart melts. i mean, how can one kiddo be so adorable? even though i have asked this question countless times before with your big brother and sister, i still don't know the answer. but the question remains, even when our days are long. because i am ever thankful for your fiesty little presence in this house.
why wash the mirror? the boy who lives in there likes to hold hands and give sloppy kisses.