Sam is my oldest (4 years old), and also the most stubborn. Strong-willed, short-fused, intelligent, wise, logical, knowledge-hungry, cautious, emotional, scaredy-pants, hilarious, huge imagination, artsy, loves music, social butterfly...just to sum him up. He's a tiny man with a tiny, twiggy body (I like to call him my blond Q-tip), but such a big, fun-loving personality. He's an old soul and my best buddy. He says the funniest things, and for some posts with his best "Samisms," visit here.
Josh is my cherub (2 years old), with chubby cheeks and the most beautiful, precious baby-face that could kill. He's my kid that I wish could always remain a kid. I can't imagine him older and less pure and less angelic-looking. It kinda breaks my heart. LOVES hugs and will hug anything and everyone, cuddler, laid-back, thick, rough, future football player, sweet-as-all-heck, loves using his hands, loves to sing, loves kisses, loves coloring. He's my snuggle-bug.
Luke is my tiniest guy (under a year), who I sometimes like to call my Little Alien Baby. He has the biggest, cutest smile but a tiny body (at 6 months he was only in the tenth percentile), makes a screeching sound when he's excited that sounds like a velociraptor, has the greatest, chubbiest knees, the softest, most perfectly shaped blond head, the bluest eyes (as they all do), looks like his daddy, and to him, the funniest person alive is Sam. He loves to eat and loves when I hold him. In fact, he cries every time I'm not, and I'm just anxiously awaiting the day when he can crawl and walk so that I can have my arms again.