Jack

Jack is my sensitive little man. He likes things a particular way and if things are in disorder or not going his way, he will inevitably break down crying. He will line his cars up in a perfect row, stand back and look at them, and then pat his flat hand along the side of them to line them up even more perfectly. I love these little quirks about him.

Jack is also my little chatterbox. Before we could even really understand what he was saying, he used to come up to the side of our bed in the morning and, with his little eye's peaking over the edge of the bed deliver a speech about, we were never sure what, but he was passionate about it, using hand movements and everything. He loves to use his hands when he talks, I'm not sure where he got this from, but it's very very cute.
I love my little boy more that I can say. Even just writing about him right now I have a lump in my throat. I feel like I love him more than anyone has ever loved anyone.

I love that he loves being outside, and that he loves Japanese animation. I love that he loves drawing monsters and sidewalk drains, and I love that when he gives hugs he gives them in a certain order: Hugs, squeeze, kiss, hug, and that he says each of those words as he does it. I wish you all could meet him, he would probably hide behind me for awhile but once you got to know him he would be the highlight of your day.