Keith's Laugh

I am so thankful for people who remind me how awesome my kid is and what a wonderfully intoxicating laugh he has.  He laughs and you can't help but smile and laugh too.  I've been in the classroom and seen a room full of kids fall out because Keith started laughing.  He's not laughing in this picture, he's totally pouting.  He's pouting in the way that only he can pout.

Mom, you made me the middle child because you love me the most?

I agreed before I really understood his question.  Keith, our middle child.... sigh.  He needs to be loved in a whole different way.  I'm not always good at it.  I'm tired and can't field another question or listen to another argument.  I beg for quiet and get a tidal wave of noise in return.

Mom, there are cross-country kids. They go across the whole country and back.

And I create my own noise.  I ask him to make his bed three times and the fourth request is a (loud) command and he still doesn't do it.  I give him complicated instructions and wonder why he doesn't complete a task.  My voice is white noise. My voice is mostly ignored for his flights of fancy.

Mom, I was laying in bed, did you hear me talking to myself.  I made a really good "ch" sound CH-CH-CH-CH-CH

People wonder how he is doing in school and I totally get what they are really saying.  There were moments this summer when  we wondered how Keith would possibly survive Kindergarten.  He's surviving, he's thriving.  He holds on for 3 and a half hours and reserves his worst for me.  But I get his best too.  I'm his soft place to land, his respite after a long day, his scratching post, his book buddy, his mom.  We unwind and laugh and dance and sing.  I slow down and stare into the eyes of the baby boy in the pictures on my wall.  Yesterday I was ready to give him away, today I will keep him.  He is a part of me, the laughter of my heart and for that I am thankful.