A Fine Discourse

Sometimes (lots of the time), I'm an all-or-nothing girl.  It's been a lifelong trait, leading to times of both consuming joy and bleak despair.  Having children has tempered this part of my response to the world because they pull me out of self every single day without even realizing what they do.  Avoiding sugar entirely OR eating a sackful of candy in ten minutes, though?  That remains constant.  So does this.  Either none at all or TWO DOZEN snapshots of my son taking off his shoes after church and talking to me about the new baby.

Hey, at least snapshots are healthier than candy, right?

The problem began when Zeke stalled by sitting on a stool and talking to me about Polka'poose.

(You can see that some of his older sisters just dumped their church clothes on the hall couch. Naughty children.)

He really wants the baby to be a girl because "We already have a boy baby, and we've never had a girl baby."  (His memory doesn't extend to the five girl babies who arrived before he was born, I guess.)

Behind him sits the native boy baby to whom he referred.  Hm.  Looks like a good-sized baby to me.

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This snapshot shows the brown patch in his left eye-- the Owen island that quietly asserts itself in a sea of blue.

We conversed on many topics, including those eyes.

We also engaged in a thoughtful discourse on the subject of noses (i.e. DON'T DO THAT, ZEKE!).

I dunno.  I should have showed restraint and only posted a couple of these snapshots, but, as I said, I'm an all-or-nothing sort of girl, and this boy's worth my all.