We've quickly fallen into the habit of driving to the house in the evening. Channing already knows the way, up, up, up the hill, past the horse barn, around the circle, down the hill, through the tunnel exclaiming 'Wheeeeee!!!' all the way and we've arrived. Channing loves it. Even though it is just a shell, he knows where his room is and where the bathroom is. He mimics going potty, taking a bath and washing his little hands. He squeals with delight over his own antics. This is one little boy who is house proud.
Yesterday, he felt the need to stretch his artistic wings, wanting to 'paint' with crayons. He spent a long and contemplative time on the sofa with his coloring book and a burnt orange crayon, after which he resettled himself at the coffee table. He was not pleased with me for trying to take his picture. I was to color too, not try to capture the moment. But capture I did. The resulting images are well worth the momentary meltdown. Sweet boy and his earnest attempts to make his little hands put on paper what he sees in his head, this mama wants to scoop him up in her arms and keep him in this moment forever just as much as she can't wait to see him grow.