Uno is playing football and I gotta say, I'm impressed. Growing up, me and my siblings always played sports but football just seems so rough. My words of wisdom to him? "Run baby, don't let them tackle you." So much for me promoting the "tough guy" approach. He's in middle school and it amazes me how quickly the time flies. I can still remember him in a car seat or carrying around a sippy cup.
Dos has turned into this little man. Over the weekend, I hovered close to a public restroom that he went into by himself. Upon his exit, he saw me and said, "Mom, I'm not a baby." To me he is. He's my baby. My tall, seven year old baby. He's my deep thinker. The one who keeps me on my toes. The one who's really not gonna care what the crowd does. He marches to the beat of his own drum. He's HUGE into Ninjago and often shares with me the latest "true potential" that a particular ninja possesses. What's "true potential"? In fact, I would like him to tell me what my "true potential" is.
Tres, oh my Tres. If stars could dance in one's eyes, they would dance in hers. She is a rare jewel. One that lights up a room and her spirit is so fragile you don't want to do anything to crush her. She's a dancer now. In fact, tonight she shared some of her mad skills. My prayers nowadays consist of "please, Lord, don't let me laugh while she's dancing". It is a laugh of joy but I know she will interpret it as me laughing at her. The intensity across her face while she recalls her dance steps is what makes me smile. This girl is giving it her all.
And my baby, Quattro, I kiss on his cheeks so much I truly think he has grown annoyed. He's saying "bye, bye, bye" now and sits up. He loves our dog, Maybelle. Out of the whole family, I believe he may like her best with Bama, the lab, running a close second. Quattro will be 9 months this week. And he has rolls and dimples in all the right places. A truly pleasant baby. I love him.