When I was little, I would plant myself in suitcases sifting through old photographs.  I'd build stories of the lives that came before mine and dream up the life I thought would be. I'd pair up memories and make-believe, changing it daily like one of those 'choose your own adventure' chapter books.  As I've grown and most things turned out far from what I could imagine, the idea that it all boils down to the story within a frame and a turn of the page has stayed. 


I've always wanted to be yours.


Jack is six.  Think: brooding artist meets child Jim Carrey impersonator with a Hulk-like temper.  Somehow his entrance into kindergarten brought a vast knowledge of all things.  He'll be sure to tell you.  Like his momma though, he's painfully shy at first (but then latches on for dear life with face-beaming adoration). He's our sweet Moochie-boy.

And then there is Henry.  Whereas with Jack you have to earn the love, our little three year old Tater Tot is giving it away freely.  He is literally always smiling and will convince even the hardest soul there is good.  He hugs the waitress on the way out, high-fives the mailman and calls every child he plays with his "very best friend".