But one thing that is in my favor is his good humor. He has his daddy's sense of humor. Those of you who know me well, know that I have a very wry sense of humor and that I don't read people well. I stopped trying to judge expressions or looks since I was usually wrong. But this little guy will laugh at just about anything. He is jovial. And he is the fattest of my children at this age. So he is affectionately dubbed Baby Claus. Sure, he whines and fusses for the normal times, but he loves to laugh. If I copy a funny sound, he busts up laughing! A little riot on two chubby legs.
If he hears someone laughing or sees something drop to the floor, he laughs. If we point at him, he laughs. And he loves his "jumpy". He'll bounce just to hear the squeak of the rusty spring, and then laugh. He is just an easy baby. Mostly.
Then there are the times when he is sick. I know, yes, I know. All babies are hard to deal with when they are sick. And I know I don't have monopoly on whining and hardship. In fact, if he only whined and cried and clung to me, I would still love him and tout his good qualities.
I have learned thankfulness. I have had to deal with the silence of no baby after a long pregnancy and a heart-rending birth that does not fill my arms, that could only fill my life with sorrow. But enough of that. Enough of sorrow, for my time is joyfulness. My beautiful baby is one year. He is healthy and whole and hearty. He is part of my blessing beyond measure.
Something my sister said to me about my obstinacy has stayed with me. She said something like, "You have never cared what others think of you. If we say that you shouldn't do it and you want to, you just ignore us and do it." We were talking about my gaggle of children. Maybe I could take that obstinacy and use it toward sorrow and hardship. In the face of adversity, I will not bend my neck. I will keep my joy. No one can take my joy from me; only I can give it away in exchange for other, less valuable feelings.