Huey-ism: Bedtime Prayer

Houston said the bedtime prayer tonight.  He thanked God for important things like his brothers and Pokemon.  Then he said this jewel that melts a parent's heart...

"God, you are such an awesome God.  I don't think I could ever figure out how to make an elephant or a giraffe!"

Huey-ism: Finds from Schoolwork

At some point every week, each boy brings home about 500 sheets of paper with schoolwork for us to "keep at home".  I pilfer through it all and pick only the greatest of treasures to hold onto, since we'd have to rent a decent sized storage unit to keep it all.

This week, Houston's work, in the most classical Houston way, contained these golden nuggets...

Exhibit A
Apparently, he read a story in class that was set in a baseball field.  The main characters were Dad, Mom, and Ronald Morgan. The question on the school work read, "My favorite part was..."  To which Houston answered, "Win Ronald hit his Dad in the knee with a ball."

Nevermind a sweet family sharing an American pasttime.  Bodily harm.  The kid loves it. 

Exhibit B
I presume with the arrival of Fall, his class is discussing things related to the new season.  He brought home a list of three things he would do if he were a scarecrow.
   1.  scare the crows away dy making scary 'fases' (he still mixes up d's and b's)
   2.  watch the pumpkins so they would be safe
   3.  Make a 'nuter' scarecrow so I d't do all the wock
     Translation of #3:  Make another scarecrow so I don't do all the work
     (we have some trouble recognizing r sounds and haven't quite grasped all the acceptable contractions yet)

But the funniest thing is that he would replicate himself to share the work with.  But that is Houston in his purest form.  He is more the foreman/bossy/supervisory type.  However, boy's got a point, I mean, hanging on a stalk is exhausting and guaranteeing the safety of pumpkins is serious business!

Hawk-ism: Aging

This morning Hawkins, Holt, and I had the wooden block letters and numbers set out.  We like to practice learning with them.  He made a line of six blocks and wanted me to teach them to him.  Only one of his chosen blocks was blue.  I started with the block closest to me, which was not blue, "This is a 'V'.  V is for Victor."

Hawk:  No, Mom!  You have to start with the 'boo' one.  Always start with the 'boo' one first!
Me:  Okay.  The blue one is a 2.
Hawk:  I know that.  <giggles>
Me:  Are you 2?
Hawk nods his head
Me:  Oh!  I thought you were 3?!
Hawk:  <with head cocked to the side batting his eyelashes and very matter-of-factly>  I growed up!

Holt is 11 Months!!

Oh my goodness!  Just one short month before your first birthday.  I am filled with so much excitement and sadness all at the same time.  I look forward to you growing up because you will begin toddling and babbling.  But I also know that eventually means less cuddling and kissing.

*I guess we can now call you an official crawler.  You very rarely do the belly scoot anymore, just every once in a while when you think you can get somewhere faster salamander-style.

*You have been pulling up on things for forever but now you will let go and balance yourself for as much as three seconds before you drop to your bottom.  We're slightly off track with my goal for you to walk by Halloween.  But, it does seem that you might walk earlier than your older brother, Hawkins, did.  And that is a plus!  Besides, I only want you walking by Halloween because you can show off your costume better when you're not crammed in a stroller or wrapped around my hip.

*So I'm still totally your favorite.  Sadly, I haven't seen much plus to this fact.  It means you crawl all around the house hunting me down when I leave your sight.  Which, okay, is completely adorable.  Until you find me, that is.  As soon as you spot me, you instantly want to be held.  You make your wishes well known (commence incessant crying until baby gets what he wants).  Mind you, there is a room full of brothers and Daddy, any of whom would love to hold you, that you pass right by.  It's so severe now that if your brothers pull you two inches away from me, you immediately bust out.  If they put you right back, you immediately quit.

*You've learned to drink from a straw, which you now believe entitles you to anyone's drink with a straw.  And when you are denied things, such as Coke, you get very upset.  One day, I did cave and let you have some of my soda but you hated it and spit it right out.

*You love to play Pete and Repeat.  Basically, you make a noise, such as "eh" and then one of your audience members will repeat it in the exact same manner and pitch as you.  And we continue on and on.  It's so cute that it hasn't come close to getting old.

*You really kinda need a haircut.  But your precious hair is still so baby fine that I feel as though length = thickness and a trim would set us back a few months in the density department.

*When we go down to the park, you like to swing but you absolutely love, love, love to slide.  You like to attempt crawling up the baby slide.  Surprisingly enough, when you're in shorts, your feet/knees/hands are gummy enough that you can actually make it about halfway up.  But your favorite is sliding down, especially when Houston slides with you down the big tunnel slide.  When you reach the bottom, you giggle and squeal with joy.  I imagine that in a few months your squeal will be followed with "again, again!"

*You get into everything!  You leave a little wake of destruction behind you.  While your big brothers are at school, Hawkins loves to play with you.  He shares his super heroes / builder tools / trucks / anything that he's playing with at the moment.  He talks to you and tells you how to play correctly.  He also lets you know when you are not doing it right.  When your big bubbies come home, however, you get left on the side of the road.  All bets are off.  But that's when Houston swipes you up and loves and adores you.  Hayes always makes sure to come give you a hug and kiss.

*Have I mentioned yet that you poop all the time?!  Like, I sing praises when the diaper isn't dirty because it is such a rarity.

*You wake promptly between 6:30-7:00am every morning without fail.  Unless you're at Grammy's, of which your 9am mornings are of no benefit to me.  Anywho, you and Hawkins entertain each other for a good ten minutes before he makes his morning debut.  Then, I begin heating your bottle.  Once it is ready, I hand it to you and for the next 30 minutes, you are held captive in your crib.  You see, from 7:00-7:30am is massive chaos trying to get your big brothers dressed, fed, backpacked, and out the door to catch the bus.  If I set you free, there is too much commotion going on to drink your bottle!  Also, you always wake up with a stinkie and I literally do not have two extra minutes to stop and change you to avoid the potential for leakage onto the carpet.  Hence, confinement to the crib.  Some mornings you comply, other mornings you protest.