Never has there been, in the history of tiny humans, a more awesome human than Mr. Rad.
He is the sweetest, easiest, most laid-back little person I have ever encountered. I cannot fathom how my anxiety-ridden body produced such a chili bean.
No, this is not some product placement ad for that stupid cat piano, he just looked so cute with it I couldn’t help it. There’s no way I have as many pictures of Rad as I do of Gigi, even though he’s the baby who will always smile for me. So I’m trying to take more pictures of the little man before he’s too cool for his mom.
Because I know it is inevitable that he’s going to love another woman more than me. And I know that it’s inevitable that he’ll stop lighting up from head to toe when I walk in a room. And it’s only a matter of time that he stops letting out a gasp of despair when I exit a room.
He won’t always snuggle into me, or giggle just because I bat my eyes at him. So I just needed to quickly document it, and declare it to the public.
THIS IS PROOF I WAS ONCE THIS BOY’S EVERYTHING!
And now that I’ve said it, and got it off of my chest, I don’t have to rub it in my future daughter-in-law’s face. Hopefully.
Baby boys. UGGGGHHHH. There’s just something about knowing that a person who will one day be larger than you, and will probably have to commit you to your insane asylum, can currently fit his head in the crook of your neck.
I am smitten. I am obsessed. He’s like a little nicotine patch, just when I think I can’t breath, and I want to give up and collapse in on myself, I get a little boost from Mr. Rad, and I can make it a little longer.
I want to make it clear I know how incredibly lucky I am, and I hope that it occasionally comes across through the nonsense.
Thank you for letting me gush.