Ah, Mr. Mufasa... such a character. This kid is going places in a hurry. He's amazingly strong and has a crazy tight grip. He loves to try to help me do dishes and when I attempt to scoot him back, he can lift the entire bottom rack and pull it onto the floor with him. I don't think I've ever had anyone pull the whole thing off before. Legendary persistence, this one. It's terrible when it comes to pinching though- he leaves marks that stay on the back of my arm for days. Must channel strength into productive avenues!
But seriously, when he's this cheerful, how can you be annoyed about a little pinch? Usually it's only me or Anna who gets it- not the other kids. He just motors around being happy.
He, Bernard, and Flynn are pretty much like the three musketeers these days. It's fun to watch them discover new skills and be alternately annoyed and delighted with each other. They take turns leading the mischief and like to travel in a pack.
As hard as he plays, that follows into his sleep. He's happy to crash out anywhere, and doesn't mind if you transfer him from a car seat into your arms and into bed. I'm super jealous of that ability, as neither of my kids would do it.
He couldn't make it home from school- we went and had lunch with O'Malley the other day, where the attendance secretary fell completely in love with him. She's always sad when I don't bring him with me. Oh, where's my smily boy? she says. :)
All that charm is hard work. He almost always sleeps all the way home.
Merida is learning to say his name and I love the way she does it. He has a three syllable name and she takes the middle. Using Mufasa, it would be like she calls him fa-fa. So cute. I call him that half the time now too.
This just happened now: yesterday I sent him home with no pants on, just a onesie. By the end of the day neither his dad, Anna, or I could remember what pants he'd been wearing or where they had gone. About thirty minutes ago O'Malley came home from school and I noticed he was wearing them. As shorts. He's so skinny they fit and he just thought I must have bought him new shorts and stuck them in his room. You know, because I always throw his new clothes on the floor... crazy man. He's SO mortified. 18 month pants. All day at school. He rocked them. Guess I'll be washing those and returning them! Mystery solved. :)