I was away for much longer than I usually am today. I got the running, almost crying, "Muh-muh" greeting from Handsome when I walked in the door. He seemed to prefer his daddy after that, which is actually great. Mower has felt like an unappreciated, dirty diaper changing, temper-tantrum on his watch substitute for me. It's nice to see them getting closer. It's not that Mower hasn't spent almost as much time with Handsome as me. In fact, Mower is usually the one holding Handsome in stores and around the house while I do stuff like dishes and laundry. I think it has to do with me breastfeeding him for thirteen and a half sleep-deprived, incoherent, dragging on while going by way too fast months.

Still, even as happy as I am that Handsome is equally happy with his father as he is with me, I can't help but be inwardly tickled pink that when it comes to his favorite method of conveying love, affection, and possession: the raspberry. I went in to calm him down after he laid down for bed. While doing the half-wrestling, half-cuddling method of calming down a toddler in a toddler bed that he can crawl out of all too well, I got a brief reprieve from the foot in my face when Handsome decided to bestow upon my arms a plethora of raspberries. All sizes, all moisture levels, all different sounds and lengths. It was heaven to be slobbered on and hearing fart noises. I love having a baby boy that does that. I fell in love with him all over again tonight.