Love My Luke

If it’s true that the things you work the hardest for are appreciated more fully, it’s no wonder that I love me some Luke. To say that, as a mother, I recognize his cry would be such an understatement. In fact, his silence scares me — more than once, I’ve had to check on him to make sure he was still alive because he wasn’t crying. Don’t get me wrong — he’s a smiley little flirt in public and at fleeting times at home. However, his little belly has rolled his life thus far into a  bit of an uproar, leaving a tired family in its wake.  To quote his daddy, “It’s a good thing God made you so cute, little man . . .”

Those two tiny teeth created quite a stir in the days leading up to their grand entry. We believe, given the amount of fanfare recently, that their partners from the north might be about to join them.

He’s on track to be as mischevious and destructive as his sister, with a hint of “boy” thrown in the mix.

In the end, no amount of crying could ever make me want to miss that awesomely fuzzy hair,

those sweet, kissable cheeks

And that belly laugh.

Yep, I sure do love me some Baby Luke.

(even though there’s screaming in the background right this minute!)