Sometimes...

Sometimes he raises a single eyebrow at me. The left one--which is the same one I can raise. It only lasts a split second, but it's just such an adult thing to do, you know? Sometimes he does it before he smiles, as if his outside edge of his brow and the corner of his mouth are attached. Sometimes he does it when he's about to do something he knows he's been advised against. Sometimes he does it when I show him a new skill, like tapping two plastic balls together to make an annoying invigorating noise.

Sometimes he tries to stand alone. This is a new acrobatic endeavor. Sometimes it ends with a crash, occasionally on his head. It's miraculous that he a) hasn't had a concussion or b) (probably) won't end up with permanent brain damage. It does make me curious to know if their little toddler heads are just tougher than our giant melons.

Sometimes he throws 11 month sized hissy fits, otherwise known as temper tantrums. Sometimes he lashes out by hurling the nearest object. Sometimes the tantrums result in him whacking me on the face. Punk.

Sometimes he smiles at me with such charm that nothing else seems to matter. Sometimes.