Twinkle, Twinkle

Gabe is the youngest, he doesn't say much. For the most part, he tries to keep to himself (if you let him). Because of this, I think he sometimes slips through the cracks of my blog. Sorry Gabe. You are making your mark on me just as much as everyone else.

I'll prove it.

You love hats. If I put a hat on you when you wake up, you'd have it on at bedtime. And you can appreciate a good hat too.

That's going to help with the ladies, further on down the road.

You have dimples that could melt a polar ice cap.

That's going to help with the ladies too.

You are cute. And you're not going to need help with the ladies.

You look just like your daddy. And if you look like him now, chances are you'll like him later. Which is a definite bonus for you, because your daddy is quite the looker.

You don't say much, but you mean what you say. Today, your shirt had a stitched dump truck on it, and until you were certain we really, really saw it, you continued to point at it & say as clear as day, "TRUCK! TRUCK!"

Your favorite lovey is a stuffed friend, Pablo.

This friend is a bean filled satiny blue guy. You got him for Easter last year. I wonder if the Easter Bunny knew how much you'd love him. You sleep with him every nap & every night. And on occasion, you're found toting him around the house (which I'm not as thrilled with, as I don't like 'the hunt' at bed time).

Today, I was prepping you for nap. I laid down beside you & started singing your favorite songs. My hands went up with "Twinkle, Twinkle" & you joined in the singing.

Except instead of raising your hands for the stars, you lifted up Pablo's & showed him how to do it.