Updates

So… you know what’s bad about being as cute as I am?  Posts just aren’t as interesting without pictures.  The problem here is that most of the ways that I post pictures seem to be having problems lately.

But that’s ok…. we’ll find a way that works.

I promised you all a pic of my newly shortened hair.  Well, here it is.  It know it’s a little dark, but almost all of the pictures we have are dark (because they’re inside) or I’m outside but wearing a hat.  After all, it’s is summer and a little fuzzy headed boy like myself would hate to get a sunbun atop my noggin.

And yes… I’m eating french fries out of a car.  How cool is that?!

I’m sure you’re wondering what I’ve been up to lately.  As you might imagine, it takes a lot of crazy to keep me away from blogging this long, but a lot of crazy is just what we’ve had.

We have had a lot of people visit lately and it has been a lot of fun!  I’ve gotten to see Grandmama, Grandpa, Opa, Uncle Paul, Aunt Courtney, Nana, and Aunt Rebekah!  Plus, with Uncle Todd and Aunt Sarah living so close, I’m getting to see them a lot, too.  This next weekend, Uncle Chris and Aunt Stacey are coming to see us, and the weekend after that Grandmama and Grandpa are coming back!!

The best thing about relatives is that they can’t help but shower me with attention and affection.  I mean seriously… how could anyone pass up a rare opportunity to chase me around the house playing hide and seek or reading a book or fishing.

FISHING!!!  I love fishing!  I know what you’re thinking… Yes, I’m only three.  Yes, I’m supposed to have the attention span of a chipmunk on speed.  Yes, fishing requires a level of finesse and patience that most kids my age could never muster.  Just chalk it up to one more proof that I’m exceptional.  The first day I went fishing, Daddy and Opa took me and we fished for 3 hours straight before dinner and another hour after.  Since then, I’ve had Daddy take me several times, Grandpa and Daddy take me once, and Daddy, Uncle Paul, and Aunt Courtney take me.  Now I’ll admit, I only stay really attentive when the fish are super active.  There are some times when the fish just aren’t as hungry, and I take that opportunity to wave my fishing net in the air, toss rocks into the water, rummage through tackle boxes, tear plastic worms into tiny pieces with needle nose pliers, and ask “why” fifty billion times.  Many times, though, the fish are super hungry and I’m more than happy to just relax and reel them in.

I’m rapidly approaching my third birthday!  It’s September 9th, and I’m very excited about being a year older.  It is my understanding that anniversaries of one’s birth carry great cultural significance, hence the celebration and offering of gifts.  I also believe that children are generally given more freedom and responsibility as they age, so I think this is my chance… I have it all planned out:

Me: “Mommy, can I get a tattoo?  I want a giant S on my chest like Superman”

Mommy: “What?!  NO you can’t have a tattoo!”

Me: “Ok, then I guess I’ll go wtih the belly button piercing”

Mommy: “ABSOLUTELY NOT.  You’re not getting a piercing either.”

Me: “Aww… how about a puppy?”

Mommy: “Fine.  But you’re not getting a tattoo or piercing”

And there you have it.  Many of you will remember that we had Zeus until we moved to Huntsville.  Zeus was a difficult kitty.  He liked to pee on laundry and would take most opportunities to run outside.  At one point, he disappeared for almost two weeks.  We ended up letting him stay with Nana.  They have another cat (Captain Jack), and the two seem to really enjoy eachother’s company.

Mommy, every boy needs a puppy.  That’s just the truth of the matter.  We don’t need a big one, either.  How about one of these?!

Norwhich Terrier

French Bulldog

White Terrier

See, Mommy!  I’m little and the dogs are little.  It was meant to be!  I think this is the part where I insert empty promises like “I’ll feed him and take him on walks every day” and where Mommy quietly considers how much work “my” puppy would mean for her and Daddy.  Still… it never hurts to ask.