Happy.

During the past couple of months, lots of people have remarked about how happy Henry is.  In fact, my grandmother went so far as to claim that he is the "happiest child" she's ever known.  And they're right.  He is a happy-go-lucky guy.  (Most of the time.  If you're not taking away his pacifier or subjecting him to a diaper change).  Henry has the sweetest disposition and honestly enjoys life.  He has the widest, most open-mouthed grin that is simply infectious.  To him, life is one grand possibility that is his to discover.  And I love this about him.

Cases in point:

I want, wish, and hope for many things for Henry. 

I want him to have every opportunity.  To attend well-regarded schools.  To have the ability to try any sport he desires.  To decide that the oboe sounds like a great instrument and have us say, "Ok!"

I want him to know that he's fortunate to have every opportunity.  And understand that there are many people who are not as fortunate as he.  And that means he should not take for granted the choices he has in life, and make sure he gives back to those with fewer opportunities.

I want him to dream big.  And to know that we support him in every endeavor and career choice, as long as he gives it his best (and it is legal, of course!).

I want him to be inquisitive.  To want to learn more about the world around him--other people, other cultures, other ways of thinking.

But most of all, I want him to be happy.  Because if he's happy, we've done our jobs as parents.  And if he's happy, the world will be his for the taking.