My Son

Oh, my son is so much different from my daughter. Little Paul William will be two this June, but I think he's added five years to my age in the short time he's been living.
Paul is all boy, and a tough one at that. When we get together with Claire's friends from church, he's in the midst of the wrestling boys, holding his own with four year olds.
One of his favorite activities is climbing onto our love seat, pulling off the cushion, and diving headfirst into the ground. He never misses the cushion. I used to hold my breath every time did that, but now I carry on, knowing he'll be fine.
I was on a tall ladder, trimming bushes this week. I kept feeling the ladder shake and looked down to find Paul right under me.
Adam is teaching Claire to ride her bicycle, so she'll pedal down the street, focusing hard. Paul gets on his little motorcycle and scoots until he's flying down the hill with no control.
He has no fear. He will climb any ladder or slide down any slide, no matter how high. He will jump off any ledge, no matter how far down the ground is. Luckily, I have taught him to say, "No, no pool!" which just might save his life. Our pool in the backyard is deep and unfenced, so Claire has grown up constantly being trained to stay away from it. Paul is a curious little booger, so I often catch him right next to it and hold my breath. Usually, though, he's standing next to the pool to point to it and say, "No, no pool!"
We are blessed to have one girl and one boy. Adam and I haven't decided yet whether we will add another, but we're sure that the two we have keep us busy enough right now.