Tonight we went to a friend's house for Hanukkah. They have two small grandchildren. One is a boy, about 1-1/2. He was very curious and very sweet. When he wanted something he was very polite about hit. I was amazed. Cute little voice, easy to undertand--he'd point and say, "Do," or "Mo" and I could see exactly what he wanted. At one point, he raised his arms to me and said, "Up." It was so sweet. And so sad. My difficult child said "up," too, but he usually screamed it. Once he was up, he'd squirm because he wanted down. Then he'd want up again. He climbed me like a monkey. He was SO rough. SO loud. This little boy was so gentle, and his voice so childlike (aka not monster-like) and, well, it just cemented the fact the my difficult child was diff from the get-go. This little boy cried over something for a min. and then stopped. He was easily comforted and distracted. My difficult child cried until he quit breathing--well, never mind--you all know how that is. been there done that. Holding this boy made me feel very ambivalent. husband said, "Does that make you want another one?" I said "NO! Maybe a grandchild, though." No use thinking about what-ifs. I love my son. It's just been so hard ... and every now and then I grieve for what could have been.