The kind of person

If, for some reason, this blog says that I'm publishing as Martha Stewart, it's because I am. And when I say that, I mean it's because blogger won't let me log out of my husband's account so unless I want to do some back alley shady browser business to get onto my account (like I had to do yesterday) then I have to use my husband's account. That still doesn't explain WHY his account name is Martha Stewart, but honestly, we can't explain that either. It's a weird thing that happened about 2 years ago to his account and we can't fix it. So. While it may appear that Martha Stewart is writing my blog posts, just know, it's actually me, Lara. I can see how you'd get confused, we have a lot of letters in common, we both are great around the house, and we are big into ankle jewelry.

That last bit is a lie. I hate ankle jewelry.

Well, before his younger brother makes a debut on the blog in the form of a birth story, I wanted to pay tribute to the oldest, the Lion as I call him.

And the kind of person he is.

He is the kind of person who will hysterically laugh at your foot tapping on the floor until he falls over backwards.

He is the kind of person who will wake up from your tandem nap earlier than you, sneak away, and find something to stuff in your mouth while you are still sleeping. Yesterday it was actually food, which could be a good or a bad thing.

He is the kind of person who is "aggressively friendly" as we call it, who will get up in your BUSINESS in the name of friendship. He is still learning about personal space.

He is the kind of person who will hear a kid crying across the room, or across the grocery store, and start shouting some kind of nonsense at them. Not sure if it's reassuring or threatening. It depends on the day, maybe.

He is the kind of person who will bargain with you to get what he wants. And gosh darn it, he's got puppy eyes, and we have a real hard time not giving in. I've got a heart of coal though. So the kid is out of luck.

He is the kind of person who wakes up in the morning and walks around the house singing. Joseph will walk around the house humming when he is happy, that is one of my favorite traits. You can tell Joseph is happy when he's humming. It would seem that his son is taking after him.

He is the kind of person who will stubbornly help you. Try sweeping with him. He will find something in the house that resembles a broom and neatly disperse your dirt pile back all over the house before you can get to a dust pan.

He is the kind of person who will open his mouth when you throw water in his face to wash him off. 

He is the kind of person who doesn't even have to LOOK at spinach to know he doesn't like it, and pick it up off his plate to drop it on the floor. He seriously doesn't even look at it.

He is the kind of person who loves the hug game, where I sit on one side of the room, and Joseph sits on the other side, and he just runs back and forth between us and our open arms, giggling and hugging.

He is the kind of person who had every right to be terrified and perhaps hurt and angry over welcoming a new brother into his family, after all, he had been the total center of our lives, the center of everyone's attention for his entire life, and suddenly the spotlight changed. But instead he took to his brother, gently touching his hair, nose, hands and feet, giggling and staring with big eyes, loving immediately. 

He is the kind of person who has taught me more about myself and unconditional love over the last 16 months. And I adore the living daylights out of him. 

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