So in the last two years I have learned that raising boys is SO DIFFERENT than raising a girl. Or maybe it's just my boy. I'm daily surprised at his antics and what seems to "make sense" in the mind of a two-year old.
Like putting goldfish in his daddy's coffee grinder.
Or dumping the box of drywall plaster all over the garage. This photo does not do it justice. It was quite a mess. (And this happened when he was suppose to be "cleaning" the garage).
He is constantly jumping off things and falling off things (he shouldn't be on in the first place). This is head injury #1,267 or something like that. Seriously, we're pretty good at wound closures these days!
The other day the kids and I were looking for worms and snails in the back yard. I had my back to Hunter when I heard him saying, "hi bug, hi bug." I looked over at him and he had this BLACK WIDOW in his hand. Thank God for his protection. It was a scary moment.
But then I catch him at moments like this and I think he's the cutest little guy I ever laid eyes on. He's full of life and personality. He loves to give "big hugs" as he says. He wakes every morning and after nap in a drunken stupor with serious bed-head (which he unfortunately gets from his mama!) and stumbles into the kitchen announcing, "I hungy!" And then my heart melts and I know in the blink of an eye my little man won't be two anymore. He won't be putting goldfish in coffee grinders and I'll miss even moments as crazy as these.