As my due date approaches, I feel as if the boys are starting to sense the big change coming (Patrick more than "senses" it...he knows).  While he is becoming more and more loving and figuratively glued to my side, to the point that I actually trip over him several times a day, Leo is mad.  Furious.  And, affectionately, I remember falling so deeply in love with him immediately after he was born and thinking, "You are so perfect that I will never be able to get mad at you."  I was wrong.  We are now mad at each other.

Leo will be 17 months old tomorrow.  He is, in my humble opinion, remarkably handsome.  He also has a fury of fire, with which we have recently become more accustomed.  Thankfully, he is not the first born, or I swear Adam and I would think he is possessed.  I know he's entering a full-fledged toddler stage and it will eventually pass...but I really think he may be cursed with that temper for life.  However, as quickly as he gets mad (more often than not, soliciting more laughter from us than anything.  Once you learn to ignore them, tantrums are pretty funny), he turns right back into that sweet, pretty baby with the dimples...and a combination of relief and adoration washes over me again. We have a long road ahead of us, Leo and me. (Oh, and Leo? The faster you learn to just let me win our battles, the easier your life will be. I don't think your father would disagree.)

On the baby front, nothing is happening. No real contractions as of late, no other labor signs of notable significance, and no hope for me that the baby will arrive anytime soon.  Being 37+4 today...that is neither too discouraging or disappointing. Though I am brimming with excitement about meeting the newest member of our family, I am also trying to find peace in knowing that the baby will come when it is ready (this is much easier said than done, trust me.)