Elvis who?

If you have read this blog before or know my family at all, you know this kid.

People call him special.
People call him a character.
People call him wild, crazy, monster,
People call him unique.
People call him Caleb.
We are wont to call him king.
He knows he rules this house in attention. We are all always looking to him for a good laugh and he rarely disappoints. He also provides us with many a head ache and embarrassment as well. But lately it seems as though he is upping his cute game in preparation for the competition: the infant.

I can honestly sense a little bit of trepidation on his part from all the talk and the prep regarding the baby.



I think he can just sense there is big change coming. I think he will handle it well. I think he will teach boy #3 all he knows, and for that I am very, very worried. But at the same time, I feel for him. I find myself cuddling him just a little more. I am trying harder to get all I can out of our daily alone time, spoiling him with all that one on one attention. He has taken to it rather well.
He is frequently telling me,
"Mom, you're good."
For which I reward him greatly in massive quantities of sugar.

[Side note: precious little means more to this little boy than sugar. I am thoroughly convinced that he would trade family members for large quantities of sugar. (except me of course, seeing as he needs me for translation purposes.) we try to limit his intake, but without fail every single day the kid finds some kind of sugary substance somehow. He has a nose for the stuff.]

My long winded point is Caleb's baby of the family days are numbered. The countdown days are flying by and soon this little boy won't be the Swanson baby anymore...





but he will always be our little king.