Bringing up baby: memories

Atilla has an endearing habit right now.

He's very keen on the opening of closets. After his bath, if I have forgotten to lay out his evening wear, I head to his closet to open it. And oh! The wide excited grin on his face! His happy chortle of expectant adventures! A gurgle of pleasure as I run my finger past each of his clothing to decide the right one.

He rolls over and wriggles and shuffle-crawls across the king-sized mattress in his eagerness.

His wail of disappointment when he is reminded t-shirts go over his head, his hands go through the sleeves. Or, the buttons on his growsuit needs to be fastened on a well-dressed toddler.

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One memory I miss of him already is his graceful plump baby hands. He looks to the left, and his right hand motions gracefully in a slight twisting gesture.

I miss the faces he made at me.

I miss his grin as he suckles his milk. In the beginning his closed eyes, and milk stupor. Then, eye contact as he stares. Then, his grin of happiness. Then, when I could make him smile by making a joke (silly sounds).

I miss his sleeping smiles.

I miss his muppet imitation, where his inflexible tongue is centered in his mouth in a wide open smile, his head is tilted, and he looks so cute!