A breather.

The baby is asleep, my paper is written and my online stroke class is complete. And I finally have time to journal. And I can put every other task aside, because recording this beautiful life is more important to me than other important things. And because this is my breather.

My boy is all boy. Trucks, cars, motorcycles, airplanes, helicopters, scooters. He loves anything on wheels. And although he is still not a fan of dirt, he won't hesitate to dip a finger in a sidewalk crack and stick the findings in his mouth. He oohs over bugs and caterpillars and like to watch his matchbox cars race off the coffee table and say "WOAH!" He's a Mamma's Boy and a Daddy's Boy. No favoritism.

But with all this masculinity, he's gentle. He rubs his hand over my now protruding belly and says, "ahh," then lays down two kisses. He hugs me tight with his head on my shoulder, while patting my back. He carefully steps over my legs, his toys, his puzzle pieces, a pillow feather to avoid toppling over.

And he's smart! This kid can turn on the television, find the xbox controller, pull a battery out of the battery pack, insert it into the controller, climb into a corner on the sofa, cover himself with a blanket and power the console. And just so you gain full understanding of the complexity of this task, the battery pack is on the window sill behind the sofa. To get to it, little man has to scale a mountain of a sofa, hurl his upper body over the back end, reach for the battery pack, haul it onto the sofa and press a button while simultaneously discharging the battery from it's charger.

Our little terminator needs a pair of boots. These Crocs won't do. And maybe some decent riding clothes. Clothes, boots and a motorcycle, right Arnold?

This little man is bike savvy. He hits the peddle with his foot, plays his music, honks his horn and rocks his shades. We just need to work on his steering.

Daddy's helmet cracks me up! As if a toddler's head isn't big enough, this gigantic rock takes this poor kid off balance. He has to keep walking just to stay upright: Mister big head on a tight rope.

Want to hear something magical? There is a butterfly waltzing in my belly. Ever hear of the butterfly waltz? My baby knows it by heart and flutters around to melt mine.