Notes on Lee

He loves dogs. If he sees a dog at the park he will head right for it and show little fear of getting right up in it's face. It's terrifying.
He loves books. Especially tactile booms like those by Matthew Van Fleet or the "That's not my monster" series. He will hand you a book and back up into your lap. Sometimes he climbs into the yellow rocking armchair and sits there looking at books on his own.
He has great rhythm. He claps to the beat and often sings the melody of songs. He os particularly good at The White Stripes "Seven Nation Army."
He talks. He's getting a good arsenal of words. But he also chatters, incessantly.
He is a climber. He scales everything.
He loves to look out the window.
He will bring you his shoes because he wants to go out.
He likes to dress up. Put on your clothes, a necklace, some sunglasses. He looks proud.
He started playing with the toy kitchen.
His favorite past time however is taking things out of one place and putting them in another. Like putting clean laundry in the hamper or dirty laundry in the drawers.
He is a wanderer. He will take off with nary a look back. And if he sees you coming after him he will pick up speed and laugh.
But that doesn't mean I can leave the room he is in to get a shower. I have to sneak away every morning. He's fine as long as he doesn't see me go.
He is so lovable and charming it must be a sin. Just picturing his sweet face makes me light up, even in the grimmest of times. And some times have been grim.
He adores his brothers.
He is almost 16 months old and I have barely blogged about him. It isn't because he isn't noteworthy or incredible. It is because life is chaotic and fast and I rarely get a chance. But maybe if I try to do a word here and there I can back into it. Maybe.