If Griffin is my heart, Darwin is my soul, then Emerson is my joy. All of my joy.
Pointing, grunting, using very little words. Will sweetly call me, "Mama!" But if he needs something, I quickly become, "MMMMMAAAAAAAA!!!"
Hugging his daddy and brothers when they come home, calling both of his brothers, "Dar!"
Trucks, trains, trucks, helicopters, trucks, airplanes, trucks, automobiles, and trucks.
Chocolate chips, pretzels, rice soaked in chili, and trying to eat everything he's allergic to.
"Petting" the dog. (Where "petting" is really "licking" and ewww.)
Helping with laundry, playing with mama's straight pins.
Sneaking out the back door.
Fingers pinched in slammed doors.
Being told anything along the lines of no, hands off, and not for you.
Being asked to talk.
I really cannot being to put into words how utterly fantastic you are Emery, happy birthday my little love.
PS. Please start talking and sleeping soon.