Little man

After I posted last night's blog, I went back and looked at all the old blog posts I'd written, and as I got to those from when he was a baby, Colin asked me, "Are you going to start crying now?" A few tears were shed, I'll admit, but you can't help it, especially when watching the ones with videos of him giggling (he still belly laughs that way).

And as I read back through the old posts, I found some threads that are still relevant today, and I'll revisit those. But this evening I've been reflecting a lot on my Grandpa Maher, who would have been 94 today. I wish he had gotten to meet our kids -- he would have gotten such a kick out of them. When O senses a new audience and starts to ham it up, I know he got that from his Grandpa Bernie. And every time O is asked who is his favorite baseball player is, and he yells "Joe Mauer!" I can see my grandpa's smile. So, even though he didn't get to meet O, little pieces of him lives on.

As for the little man, he becomes more grown up every day. After I picked him up, we went to Sport Clips for a haircut and despite crying, "I don't want a haircut!" through the whole thing, he was a good sport and did really well. (My coat is covered in hair, but oh well.) It helps that the place is plastered with hockey sticks, soccer balls, and pictures of football, baseball and Bucky Badger. He does great when we have lots of distractions.