While blogging my way through the 30 Days of Truth, I find myself having little time left to write about my actual life. My love life. My life loves.
Colin has teeth. Lots of teeth. He likes to bite me and laugh when I wince. It's not one of his more endearing qualities, except that when he laughs, the sky opens up and jellybeans fall down while choirs of bunnies sing scat songs. In other words, his laugh is awesome. Wicked funny, and a little bit weird. Kind of throaty. Heh heh like.
He's moving. Crawling. Trying his best to pull up, but the girth on that boy has him firmly rooted to the ground. I can't say that I'm all that sorry about that. He's already making straight shots to whatever he shouldn't have. Electrical cords. Dog bowls. Trash cans. Toilet brushes. Shoes. And all of it, everything he touches, goes right into the mouth. Nasty.
That boy loves his family. For a little bit, it was just, "that boy loves his mama." Now? He claps when Kevin walks in the door. He crawls around after Christopher like a little puppy. And Mallory is the only other person beside Mama and Daddy that Colin ever reaches out for. He started this special head bobbing thing just for her at the dinner table. She smiles at him, and then he cocks his head over to the side and "heh heh's" at her while looking so stinking adorable that you want to sell him on Etsy.
Christopher is about to grow again. Rather, is growing already. His pants are getting shorter and I'm letting the adjustable waists out weekly. He finally out grew his sneakers. We bought new ones three months ago because I was sure he was about to out grow his, but he didn't. He just plateaued right where he was for awhile. Now it's game on. Boyfriend is going to sprout, I'm afraid. Just please don't out grow your winter clothes, Bird. I can't afford to buy you new ones, and I like the ones you have already.
The main battle with Christopher right now is the dinner table. He just won't eat what I cook for dinner. I feel like I've tried everything, and what I really want to settle into is that it's not a battle. Just let go, Mama. But some nights I get so frustrated that he isn't going to eat anything again, and I know he will wake up in the morning and eat a huge breakfast, and I lose it. I mean what kid doesn't like sweet potatoes? He used to love them. He used to love lots of things. Which makes me think that it's not about taste at all. That it's either about power or it's about texture. I'm leaning more towards power. Whatever it is, I know it's a phase. Deep breath, and this too will pass.
The big news is that we got a new fence across the front of the backyard today. It's not pretty, but at least the dogs won't get out now. I swear that Setter wants a new family something awful. Our leather sofa just isn't good enough for her anymore. I can't say that I blame her really. I shave her myself now instead of letting her show coat grow out and get groomed. It is so beneath her.
There is more. A baptism has finally happened. My parents have been here. My brother even. But that is a post for another day. I'm still savoring the visit for myself.
