Two

Milk.
Golf.
Sleep.
Repeat.

This pretty much sums up my newest two year old. David seems to only have one gear when it comes to things that he loves, full throttle. First and foremost, he loves his milk. He started craving it before he was even born. When I was pregnant with him I had an insatiable thirst for milk and not the watered down variety—whole, rich milk. I easily drank eight full glasses of it a day and I am sure that was why he turned out to be almost eleven pounds. Ideally, he would only drink milk and consume no food, except for a random sucker here or there. His favorite flask remains the bottle, preferably, dangling from his lips. Shhhh, it's on our two-year-old agenda to rid him of it.

Second, he loves golf. We've seen him playing naked, in a diaper, in his church clothes, in a Halloween costume, with actual clubs—both his, the girls and Dave's—and makeshift ones (picture sticks, pencils, swords, anything somewhat straight, no matter the length), in a 100 degree weather outside, in 40 degree weather outside. No matter, he is obsessed with it. He even loves to watch it, a sure sign of a true addict. He'll come and sit by Dave on the couch, grab the remote control and point it at the TV and say "golf". His concentration to the sport is pretty amazing to me. David will regularly play, independent of any prodding by me an hour a day by himself. Not just the random picking up a stick and swinging it variety of play, but lining up his feet with the ball, settling into soft knees, swinging, then hitting the ball accurately. He even follows through with that little heel popping up. Then he'll play with Dave or his sisters or me again as many times as he can convince us.

A close third, David loves basketball. This is a pretty cute sport to watch a one then two-year-old play. He's small and basketballs are heavy and big, but he dribbles and attempts to shoot. Dave calls him the eternal optimist because he will get right under a standard size basketball hoop and shoot and shoot. The ball literally goes an inch or two above his head. Regardless, he loves it. We bought him a child-size hoop with a ball, but this doesn't really do the trick. He prefers the real McCoy.

David loves his dad. I love to see how he lights up when he comes home and even how he crumples when he leaves. There is no one he would rather play with, follow around, sit still with, snuggle or just be with. I know, in part, he loves golf and basketball because Dave loves them, but I also think that they just have a lot in common. David is easy-going, fun and always moving, just like his dad. He also has his dad's crazy focus when he gets hooked by something.

Luckily, my boy loves to sleep too. No process. No drama. Just lay the boy down in his crib or Pack n' Play and he is out. I love that HE loves this because it gives me that needed to remember how much I love this little boy and focus on the minutes of his day and the details of his growth.

He loves a lot of other small things too: full-mouthed slobbery kisses, popcorn and a home movie, silent tantrumming, climbing things, jumping off things, skateboards, soccer balls, playing in parked cars, his Nike tennis shoes, his sister's shoes, wrangling a chicken, playing with water, dumping water and all of us. Mister, the feeling is mutual.