Even though we’ve said goodbye to the dreaded monthly photo shoots in the rocking chair, I still want to document a few things about our little 13-month-old-Mr. Boy. Plus, from time to time, I like to dump some of my favorite iphone pics on the blog in case, God forbid, I ever drop my phone in a toilet or something. It’s a miracle this has never happened. Knock on wood.
At 13 months, Mr. Boy is OBSESSED with lights. He points to them in every store and restaurant and says “ight, ight, ight.” When we go in to get him from his crib, he’s usually standing, pointing to the two lamps on top of his bookshelves. He squeals and says “ight” until we turn them on. Then, he grins like you’ve never seen.
Most days he wakes up really happy.
But other days, he wakes up on the wrong side of the crib.
And on those days, we snuggle and watch some Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. It’s wise to let Grumpy get a little more rest because meals can be difficult enough without anyone being in a mood. At the one year mark, Mr. Boy started getting pickier about what he will eat. Things he once seemed to love, he won’t touch. He still REFUSES deli meat and pretty much all meat unless it’s hidden. He loves cheese and most fruits and veggies. He loves to squeal “ot, ot, ot” {hot} anytime I pull something out of the microwave or oven. He loves to repeatedly throw food and sippy cup on the floor during meals. Unfortunately, pops on the hand don’t seem to be conveying the message that this is a no-no.
Still not much interest in walking on his own. He enjoys walking while we hold his hands or pushing the bottom part of his stroller. He can stand on his own, but {usually} he refuses to do it. He had fun at the Wild West fall festival at Southern this year.
L always has fun with his boy Jacks, despite the fact that Christy and I sometimes drag them through the absolute insanity that is Forever 21. . . and numerous other stores at the mall. Bless their hearts. Looks like it really bothers them, doesn’t it?
The zoo is a better option for little guys. Monkeys are definitely more fascinating than manikins. As they should be.
{Doesn’t L look like such a little boy, rather than a baby, in those shoes?!? Tears . . .}
{I’m still refusing to cut his hair, by the way.}
We’re enjoying football season. Ok, that’s a lie. We’re enjoying dressing for football season. Though it’s sad to admit, Adam works most Saturdays, which means that I rarely even turn the games on. I realize this is unimaginable to some of you, but admittedly, I went to football games in college to socialize and people-watch and wear something cute in orange and blue. And now I watch football games on TV when there’s a party or food or family involved. Or when Adam’s home and all into it. Or when it’s a big game that I care about. Subtract these factors and football just doesn’t do it for me. I realize this is southern football blasphemy. Seriously. I don’t even belong in my family of intense football people.
Regardless, we wear our team colors. Most Saturdays, we wear orange and blue . . .
{He’s changed so much in a year!}
But every now and then we wear purple and gold for Doc-Doc, Aunt Jenny, and Uncle Will. We love J-J dearly, but we just can’t bring ourselves to wear that crimson and white.
I walked outside one day, and Adam had Mr. Boy perched in the back of the car amongst all his army gear. I thought it was a cute photo opp.
Mr. Boy LOVES to look at books and have stories read to him. And he loves a good swing . . .
Loves being outside.
And I think he may even have a little bit of his mama in him 🙂 . . .
Mr. Boy will still put his head on my shoulder and snuggle. He’ll still let me rock him for a few minutes before bed. I’m hanging onto those things as long as I can.
Gospel-Shaped Womanhood 