Touching AND Funny?

I have aspirations of my blog being hilarious and touching at the same time. Turns out I'm lucky if I hit 1 out of 2. Tonight is my stab at touching. Or funny? I dunno. You decide.

Obviously I love my child. I wanted a child more than anything, he's been lovely, yada yada. I must say that now, at 16 months, Elliott's personality is so blindingly funny that it steals my breath. For the longest time, he was just a happy baby, just like most babies out there. Happy. Sweet. But maybe not funny. My kid, MY KID, is so funny that Chris and I find ourselves giggling mercilessly at his antics. Putting Ell to bed each night could be an exercise in patience (sometimes it is, I can't lie), but most of the time I have to peel myself out of the glider and use a lot of self-talk about how he really needs sleep and that my playing into his sleep-avoiding antics is being selfish.

Putting Elliott to bed goes something like this:
Sit in glider.
Wrestle him into pajamas while he is clamoring for "bubbie, bubbie" (aka, books).
Still wrestling while he moves into the "abwa, abwa, abwa" phase (aka, "agua" or water).
Elliott picks a book for reading.
I start reading in my most calming and interesting voice--after all, I want him to be interested in literacy, right?
Calming voice becomes drowned out by E's squealing at wanting to turn the pages himself. (Fighting with a 16 month old ensues. I win.)
Books are over and it's time for quiet songs.
"Abwa, abwa, abwa, abwa"
Elliott pointing to the animals on the wall above the glider, followed quickly by trying to scale mama to touch them.
"Muh-meee" (aka, monkey), "boooooo" (aka, elephant trumpeting), "yah-yuh" (aka, lion).
"It's time for night night, Elliott"
"abwa, abwa, abwa"
"Night, night, Elliott" I then start singing a series of quiet songs.
My nose is pinched. "Nuh, nuh, nuh." (aka, nose, nose, nose)
"It's time for night night, Elliott"
"Muh-muh" (Who can resist a 16 month old kisses?)
"Night-night, Elliott"
...
...
...
Needless to say that this continues until the frantic energy slowly ekes out and he grabs "wubbie" (aka, lovie), holds the corner tight in his fist, while the left thumb is pulled calmingly into his mouth.

That is perfection. That is the highlight of my day. That is the joy of motherhood.