God sent an Angel... a sleeping Angel.

Life with a toddler can be filled with challenges, to say the least. Ask Adam to brush his teeth, he brushes the switches on the toilet wall. Cook him a nice meal, he spits it out and glares at me with his deep-set eyes. I'm sure I must've mistaken rat poison for organic brown rice.
Yes, don't I simply love it.
Ask him to stop the iPad business and get his bum to bed, he throws himself on the cold hard floor and bawls so hard, I have to look under the sofa to make sure his eyeballs didn't roll out unintentionally. Absolute parenthood bliss.

But I do adore him tremendously. He is not a grouchy waker, he greets you in the mornings with a full-on grin and chants "Mummy, Mummy, Mummy" [repeat 581 times].
He's also very self-assured and is Ok to play on his own most of the time. We have no trouble parting ways at school, which is great, and when he's not being naughty, this boy is just pure love.

On days that he is not a monkey (read: rarely), like today, the world seem right again.







God sent us an Angel. In diapers. We have not started potty-training yet, because the Angel is simply not ready. Oh well, we'll worry about the potty another time.