A 10 months post

Sweet little boy...you are funny, you are silly. You love to smile, you love to entertain. You love to gently drop little pieces of food onto the floor that you should be eating and then look at us and wait for our reaction. You hate being on your tummy during the day but as soon as you are in your crib, you flip over onto your tummy and sing a little "dadadadada" song. That is, until you've had enough and you start screaming your "MAMAMAMAMA" song and demand a flipping over. You love the backpack. You love to chew on straps. You are slightly attached to your mother and you adore your brother. You reserve a special smile for Daddy when you see him in the morning and when he gets home from work. You have yet to meet a stranger. You are ticklish. You laugh from your belly and with your whole body. My back hurts at the end of every day because you still have not figured out how to crawl forward. You move backward and to the side and can scoot forward on your bottom. You have crazy-big blue eyes. Your hair is out of control. It is impossible to hold you and not to kiss your cheeks. We love you so much, Wyatt. You are the sweetest baby and are growing up way too fast. I hope you keep your spunky personality forever. It sure makes life fun. Happy 10 months, baby!

Ring Toss, Henry style

A couple days ago, Henry made up a game. It involved throwing the green ring from a baby's stacking toy into the air and jumping as high as you could before it came back down. It also included pictures. And I quote: Daddy, you need to take pictures of me and my game.

Okay then.

Cool game, huh?

How's that for a random post? These pics were taken on Sunday, when Henry was FINALLY feeling better after a week on the dark side with croup. That, to be quite frank, was pretty sucky. But he's better now and we can go back to having silly times. And whining about other things than having to sleep sitting up. Or sleeping downstairs on the couch with me. Or talking funny. Or needing more medicine. Good times. :)

Bruddas, Month 9

It is interesting, isn't it, who God pairs together as siblings? Our two boys could not have more different personalities, but boy do they fit together perfect. Wyatt is a little spitfire and already has a seriously funny sense of humor. No one, and I mean no one, can make him laugh like his big brother. I have also seen this amongst other friends' kids. There is just something that exists between siblings that cannot be named and at this age is such a fun thing to witness!

*

Anyhoo. I took some pictures this morning, hoping to appease the patiently waiting family members. :) Enjoy!

New breakfast favorite...toast!

Henry puts on an Elmo show for his brudda

Mr. 9 1/2 months (24 lbs. 8 0z, thankyouverymuch) working on his standing

Now that his hair has filled in on the sides, we can wear it down (not faux-hawked) and not look like an old man

Brudda love:

What are the chances that I caught these expressions at the same time?

BRUDDAS!!!

Apparently, Sesame Street is more interesting than their mother

Oh, bruddas.

Don't ask me about my New York (Boston?) accent today. Things like this just happen.

Body Parts

***Alert! This blog post talks about things that might be embarrassing for the male gender! You have been warned!

Since a lot of family members read this blog, I never, ever blog about things that are even slightly inappropriate for the sake of their shock or embarrassment. However, I have decided that there is too much that occurs in the lives of toddlers that is too hysterical not to share. Occasionally.

Henry is at a point in his life where there are not enough questions to ask about everything under the sun. He is not a "why" kind of child, but is very specific in his curiosity. Sometimes it's not questions, he just wants to have a conversation about things. I am usually gung-ho about his questions and musings, because I want him to think about things and take in and learn everything he can. That is, unless I'm really tired and he wants to argue that elephants tusks are not teeth, they are swords. Or if we're out in public and he wants to know why his toots are so smelly sometimes but not others. Right.

I have pretty much been completely honest with Henry about all things, including things about our bodies and their real names, and have never been at a loss for words when he has posed a question. Until the other day. When I was bending over to help him put his pants on and he reached up and grabbed my...we'll call them babyfeedingtools...and said "Mommy, what are these?" Uh.... yeah. Total loss. I had a hard time spitting out the word "breasts" and reminded him that they used to make milk for Wyatt and isn't it neat how God gave us the tools to feed our babies, to which he responded,

But you don't do that anymore. Why do you still have them?

Girls just have them. That is part of being a girl.

But the girls in my class at school don't have them.

(OH.NO.) Um.....well that's because they are still little girls. (please don't talk about this at school, please don't talk about this at school...)

Why are yours so big?

(SERIOUSLY?) Because I am a grown woman.

What's a woman?

A grown-up girl.

He seemed to be satisfied with these answers (thank you, thank you) and then remembered he had been playing PBSkids on the computer and ran out of the bathroom, leaving me with thoughts like "Oh no! I didn't tell him not to grab anyone else!"

So let this serve as a warning to all you lady friends out there...watch out!