This is my little one. My Zig.
He is all set to become the middle child in April but I hope he never feels like it. How does the stereotype go? Neither the oldest or the baby. Just….in the middle. Nothing special.
Ha! Not likely.
From the moment he arrived, we have felt the presence of the Zigmeister. A force, a whirlwind.
An absolute individual.
And now? With the impending birth of his little sister, he is and will always be our youngest son, our baby boy. Even though he has never much wanted to play that role.
I wish I could tell you all that he is. All that he means to us.
I wish my words could do any kind of justice to the brilliant light this kid shines on our lives.
But you should know that he loves helicopters and apple 'jooce' and his big 'bubba', Luca.
He sings loudly, loves to draw on tables (not paper) and will gently remind you if things aren't going his way (ha!).
He is fiercely independent – "I do it! Zizzee do it!"
And overwhelmingly loving – "I ya you, Mumma. Tiss? Tuddle?"
He won't be my baby for much longer and though that may suit him just fine, I am finding it bittersweet.