My Prince

The Prince is a very sweet kid. I noticed that I don't talk about him as much as The Princess. I think it's because he's lower maintenance. She is non-stop with the activities, and the friends, and the plans.

He, on the other hand, is kinda easy going in his day-to-day life. He likes to lounge around with the dog, talk on the phone, play video games, run around outside, visit the neighbors, hang out with the Gearhead. He wants to be a pastor when he grows up, and live in a mobile home, to avoid being in debt. He saves most of his money, but has been known to be very generous in his giving (tithing, as well as treating his sister or myself to a Starbucks, for instance).

So, this post is all about my Prince. Observe the following photographs, depicting the silliness that is my son:

The goofy begins.

Note the sister in the background. She was saying, "You'd better be careful! She's going to put those pictures on her blog!"

He obviously didn't care if these pics were going public.

There's a little of that sweet stuff.

Ah, yes, there it is. I love this kid.

We are already starting to hear his voice crack a little, sometimes. Pretty soon, he's going to sound like his dad. He won't get people mistaking him for me or his sister on the phone.

Just yesterday, he was born and doubled the testosterone in the house. He smiled the day he was born. I'd show you the picture, but we don't have a scanner, and it's not digital. However, there is proof.

He was a very easy baby. Slept through the night early on (and that's saying something for a breast-fed baby). He has a stubborn streak, yes. But, then, that's a family trait, I'm afraid.

Here's a funny story about The Prince and his stubbornness. The Gearhead wasn't much for taking care of the kids when they were little. If I had to go somewhere, I understood that the kids would be hungry and tired when I got home. One day, it was nearing dinner time, and Momma wasn't home. The Prince, who was all of 2 years old, told the Gearhead he wanted pasta. Actually, he said, "Me want pasta." The Gearhead told him that when Momma got home, he'd get some pasta. Well, The Prince kept insisting "ME WANT PASTA!" louder and louder. Finally, the Gearhead put him in his room, and told him he could come out when he had settled down.

The Prince spent a few minutes in his room, pondering his next move, I'm sure. He finally said, "Okay, Daddy. Me come out." The Gearhead let him out of his room, and The Prince promptly said to the Gearhead "You me gotta talk." Stifling his laughter, the Gearhead said, "Okay, Buddy. What?" The Prince, in all his glory said, "ME WANT PASTA!!!!"

He and his sister get along pretty well. There was a day, about a year ago, that he had a meltdown, right in the kitchen. They had been arguing fiercely about something. He turned to me, with tears in his eyes, and said, "Mom, she used to like to play with me. Now, all she does is ignore me or yell at me!" I nearly cried myself. Things have gotten better since then. They share a love of music, and spend time together, with him playing keyboard, and her singing. Or, they just goof off together. In fact, their dad frequently has to break up the fun in the evenings (pillow fights, etc.) so they'll go to bed!

The Princess sometimes helps him with his school work. In fact, one day I was so frustrated with him that I had to walk away. I came back in the room to find her teaching him some math...and they were giggling. Over math. In this house. That, my friends, is a miracle.


Have a blessed day!