farewell moo-lay, we'll miss you

I do love me a good baby mullet (pronounced moo-lay). And I think my Small has been sporting a pretty good one. Until Tuesday afternoon, when I decided it really was time to go. I didn't want to cut it, last baby and all. Those white blonde tips. But I knew it was time. Middle's hair grew out thick and evenly. Unfortunately the Small wasn't blessed quite the same. That middle section was going gangbusters and the sides never had a chance of catching up. I think Billy Ray Cyrus would have been proud.

So when did you pluck up the courage to chop your small's locks for the first time?!

*The pics of the mullet appearing really long, I had been pulling it - normally it doesn't look that bad because it curls up!

stalled

I had great intentions of catching up on all things birthday and party last night. The Small had other ideas.

Middle has done this twice before, falling and tearing that little bit of skin that attaches your lip to your gum. Blood central. He was pretty good about it, my darling boy, but come around 9ish last night, his cot was not the place he wanted to be, only my arms would keep him in a deeper sleep. I was happy to oblige, though I would have been happier had GCB been on and not the Brownlow.. or petty politicians acting like school children on Q&A. But nothing new there.

I promise by the end of the week there will be cake and party photos a plenty!

{snap it} :: growing

Those little legs are {growing} longer every day.
Spending more time in his siblings' chairs than his high chair.

See what else is growing over at Sarah's.

{snap it} :: every day

This boy of mine has never eaten bread. Toast? Yes. He loves toast. But fresh, soft bread? No no.

Crazy kid.

Today Big and Middle asked for fairy bread. Considering recent events, who was I to decline.

Traditional hundreds and thousands were nowhere to be found. But we did have leftover sunshine sprinkles.

In the time it took me to make said fairy bread, Middle had changed his mind.
He left his plate sitting on the table where the Small climbed up and helped himself.

I couldn't believe my eyes.

What should I do at this moment?

Why take a gazillion photos of the boy eating bread, of course.

Certainly not your {every day} happenings around these parts.

I really love Sarah's snaps this week. Some more lovely {every day} to take a peek at while you're there. Go on.

*the Small is half dressed en route to bathroom for poop motherload induced bath (two days running).

today

Today really kicked my arse. We are still not a well household. Me included. The great thing about families? They just love to share. Germs especially. It's impossible to quarantine anyone. This little guy has been battling the longest. We have just clicked over to three weeks since he was at full health. He's not a sickly child, so I didn't expect the bugs to hang on so long. But I think he was hit with the double whammy. Just as he was getting rid of the first bug, another was brought into the house to whack him again. And I think his molars were trying to make their imminent arrival known today. Again. Just break through al-bloody-ready.

Post afternoon sleep, he was the most miserable I have seen. He cried for everything. He never cries. So I gave up on the dishes. We headed for an early bath. Happy boy again.