Poor Max

It must be that second-born child thing.
Poor Max, he rarely gets mention in my blog. It's odd that I would neglect him in my writing because, honestly, he is always doing amazing things. Especially right now. He is on the verge of so many monumental milestones.
Max makes me smile...a lot. Of course, he also makes me sigh too, mostly out of frustration. For example, at 3 a.m. when he refuses to sleep. Or, when he just seems to cry and cry for no good reason.
But back to smiling.
Max has this way of looking at me and exploding into a wet, gummy grin that melts my heart. I can be in the worst mood and he will give me this look. In seconds, I am reduced to a crazy woman eeewwwing and goooing at him. His happiness is contagious. Of course, so is his fussiness, which, for me, triggers frustration. In that moment, he becomes like that house guest who has suddenly stayed beyond their welcome.
But back to smiling.
I love when we are breastfeeding and he reaches up to touch my face or tug at my hair. He looks into my eyes with so much trust that it almost frightens me. He is adorable when he scoots around on his tummy like a miniature soldier. I am in awe of him when he whispers ummummummumm, mamamaama, gagagagaga to me.
Most of all, it is beautiful watching him with Abby. He adores her and just smiles when he sees (or even hears) her. I know I need to cherish their adorable moments together. Unfortunately, they won't last. Even now I see glimmers of what's to come. Max steals her toy. She grabs it. He cries. She tattles. UUUUGGGHHH!
But back to smiling. No matter what, I can always bring myself back to smiling.