Little Guy is my pint-sized philosopher. He wrestles with mortality these days...wants to know where babies come from and how people die, what Heaven is like, what happens as we get older. He wants to know why...on the big stuff, the deep stuff.
He has passed through his fearful stage and now confronts the demons head on. He loves to read about giants and ogres and nightmares. He dreams up the ways he would protect his family and save us all from danger. We haven't introduced him to any superheroes, but he's chosen his own from real life: the Mister, the building repairman, and the parking garage attendant. As he sails from the sofa in rescue mode, he calls out, "Yippakeeee! FBI! Fly!"
He is sweet and sensitive and shy, shy, shy. It is a real act of bravery for him to speak to someone outside of the family or his most intimate circle of friends. He often does not muster the courage, but he's proud of himself when he does.
He gives the Mister "three tisses and three hugs" every day before work, and blows us all "three tisses and three hugs" anytime he leaves the apartment. He reunites with Buddy Boy with lots of long hugs and whispers of "I missed you, Buddy Boy. I missed you." He constantly showers Baby Girl with attention, telling her he loves her and she is "so bootiful."
He is chivalrous. He opens doors and holds elevators. He carries heavy things. His very best behavior comes out when he is given the role of helper.
He can't wait to "be four years old and grow my muscles even gooder."