Leo’s blog post, age 10, is going to be mostly in pictures: the goofy faces and the random places I find him around the house, doing things not because they’re funny but because they feel normal to him. Like how I found him playing pinball yesterday.
And how I found him so often in the summer, when he went through his Fitted Sheet Stage.
Then, there are the intentionally funny moments.
At least, I think they’re intentional. It’s been so long since I’ve seen a natural smile that maybe this is his natural smile.
It’s not like this is a new thing. The goofiness runs deep with this one.
Man, I love this kid!
Leo is the most emotional of my kids. Fortunately his main emotion is happy. I’d say he’s about 70% happy, 20% irritated, and 10% raging mad. The happiness usually comes from punching and kicking things; the irritated bit comes from Rocco; and the raging mad part is usually at me, for helping him with homework.
In fact, he hates advice and constructive criticism of any kind. We hired a soccer coach for Leo during the off season, and the guy made the mistake of actually trying to teach him actual things. Leo kept breaking down. We went back to the drawing board and tried to find a coach who would chase him around the field with his shirt over his head, Beavis and Butthead style but couldn’t find one, so we just had to cancel.
Leo claims he doesn’t like reading, as this picture neither confirms nor denies.
He’s still in speech therapy (8 years and counting!), and one of his speech issues is that his ideas sometimes come out in a mixed-up order or missing pieces—like when you get a piece of Swiss cheese that’s more holes than cheese. I wish he’d accept my offers of help, but I might as well offer my hand to a hungry wolf.
(Those teeth are sharper than they look.)
He still has the soft, round cheeks of Baby Leo—the one who snuggled with me morning, noon, and night—only he has cut me off from all hugs, kisses, and physical affection. For me, it’s like living in a kitchen smelling of freshly baked brownies, but never getting to eat a brownie.
Leo does, however, love when I casually walk past and punch him in the stomach or kick him in the shins, so that’s what I do instead. As Leo would say, “Don’t question it.”
Don’t question this either.
Even though he’s all grown up now, I did catch him twirling his hair like he used to when he was a baby, listening to me read stories.
I couldn’t find pictures of his knotted hair from yore, but I did stumble upon this one that has the same heart-melting effect.
Oh look! I finally found a picture where he’s smiling nicely and not trying to be funny! He’s holding up his fingers to show his age.
And there you have it: even when he’s not trying to be goofy, he’s goofy.
I know more than to tell him he’s wrong, though. Let’s just try something easier.
My baby is a whole set of antlers old.
WHAT’S COOKIN’ 2NITE: