My son Landon, who came into this world two years, two months, and one week after his older brother, is a smart cookie. Yes, I know a lot of parents say that about their kids, but trust me: this boy has an understanding of––and a curiosity for––the way the world and language work that continually amazes me. When he was six I saw him in the bathtub, devising porosity experiments with a plastic cup and different kinds of washcloths. 

Give him the tools and step out of his way, I find myself saying, because Landon will figure it out. And he's funny, too. A happy kid who draws huge smiles on the faces of his family in his elementary school art projects. Who drew a picture of himself hugging his grandma in her wheelchair and gave it to her. 

I have my worries about him, too––most of them centered around anger, because I know he's got it in spades. A few times I've seen it get to him so strongly (especially when he feels unjustly treated) that he's completely shut down and ended up sputtering in tears. I feel terrible when this happens because I'm unquestionably the one who first introduced him to anger during the earplug phase. My bad. My job to love him and help him through it.

So while I kinda don't get Lucas, I definitely do get Landon. He's a classic redhead: temperamental, emotional, volatile. I used to be a full-on redhead myself (if you don't believe me, check out this picture, or this one), so I know that whole scene. And for you astrologers out there: Landon is an Aries, I'm an Aries, and my father is an Aries. So I expect some fire here and there between us. 

But we've been through the worst of it, and we'll make it through the rest. You go, little man.