I call him a puddle. I'm not exactly sure why, but to me, Asher is a puddle. He snuggles in when you pick him up. He attempts to kiss everything. Ok. Maybe kiss is giving him a lot of credit. He is more like a hungry baby bird who feeds off of partially chewed kisses. When anyone, including his big sister, approaches him, he opens his mouth as wide as he can, moves his head from the left to the right in a rocking motion, and attempts to suck in the love as if it is a small worm full of nutrients.
He's a puddle.
When he wakes up, more often than not he just looks at you and smiles with bright eyes that call calmly for someone to pick him up to hug. Once in your arms, he droops and drips down into a small bundle of love.
He's a puddle.
Often times, I'll be singing to Tahlia, or we will be playing a silly game at the table, and I'll glance over to see him staring at me. When I catch his eyes, his face becomes a giant smile with an open mouth that slightly resembles a square. He can't control the amount of joy he feels, and he turns away, still smiling.
He is a puddle.
When we named him, we thought of all of the great names he would have. Of course, we simply love Asher, but we loved the idea of him being called Ash, or Ashy. Sometimes I call him Basher too. There are so many.
But , I'll admit, I'm a little partial to Pudd.
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