When he goes down the slide, he waits for the dog to move out of the way.
He gives leg-hugs.
Tonight when I was putting him to bed, he reached out for my hand and put it under his cheek.
He's remembering that he was once toilet trained, and if his little arms were longer, we'd be set.
His hair looks like it will curl a bit if we let it get long.
Making six duplo elephants made him squeal with happiness.
He loves the book Caps for Sale, just like I did.
When asked what noise a monkey makes, he tickles his armpits and says, "Oo oo ah ah."
He insists on kissing the puppy before going to bed.
He's the first person to say "Bless you" when someone sneezes.
He likes his boy-pron, his bibs, his alligator, his doll, all the things I make for him.
Every time we walk or ride by the neighbor's house, he hugs their four-foot plastic Santa.
His ABCs go, "a b c d h i j k l m n o p q r s q r s q r s t u v won't you sing with me."
He climbs onto the armchair, and when he jumps off, he yells, "Wee-haw."
The elbows to my trachea are rarer.
He now calls out, "Mommy," instead of, "Help me," when he's scared at night.
He loves penguins and hippos and monster trucks and monkeys.
On his list of favorite things to do are brushing his teeth, washing his hands, taking a bubblebath, and making up songs about tractors and cows.
The difference between The Babe today and The Babe three weeks ago is amazing. His eyes are bright, his hair is shiny, his cheeks are filling out, he's gaining muscle tone, his skin isn't ghostly pale, not all the veins in his body are visible, the black eyes are fading, there are ridges in his fingernails where they're growing out thicker, his balance is better, his coordination is improving, he can breath through his nose, his energy level is higher as his body is adjusting to being able to be active, he's retaining information, he's asking questions, he tries out the words we say to him, he loves riding in the cart at stores, he treats fresh fruits and veggies like candy, refuses kid staples like Chef Boyardee or Pop Tarts (but will eat half a cheese pizza if given the chance), he laughs freely and often, he throws the balls for the dogs, and he's only scared my heart into skipping a beat two times so far (both times involved running and falling over his feet and going headfirst into the ground -- he's not used to being able to move around a lot, and the running can be a bit tricky when he gets excited.).
We have a ways to go, of course. This stuff is just the beginning. The last reunification was hard on him, the removal terrible. But compared to the little boy who would cover his head with his hands and cower when we said his name to the running, jumping, kiss-blowing, book-page turner that's he's become, and we feel like we're on the right track.