This one. This one who pushes hard and questions thoughtfully and feels deeply and exasperates quickly and challenges every. single. thing. until I can hardly stand it, and then minutes later curls up in the crook of my legs while I nap on the couch and strokes my hair and “shhh”s his brothers because he knows I am tired to the bones. This one is both the life of me and the (figurative) death of me. Not sure I’d have it any other way.