I can't get enough of this little guy with his big brown eyes and those strong, Weaver eyebrows, which will one day become a single eyebrow.
His birthday was celebrated quietly and without much fanfare. He turned one on Tuesday, our lucky "snow day." But this weekend my parents, sisters, and a few boyfriends came over to drink a Bloody Mary's in his honor and to wake him up from a nap so he could eat cupcakes. He received only one present, a ball pit from my sisters.
Mothers always say that their babies are sweet, smart, and good. I am no different. This boy is made of magic. He is pure wonderful.
He looks just like his big sister, and he wears his big brother's hand me downs. He walks like a drunk, and his words are still completely incoherent. He is soft, and he gives hugs and waves bye-bye. He has finally started to sleep through the night.
He eats everything, but he prefers his food on a plate, and he tries to eat it with a fork, even if it means using his chubby little fingers to put the food on the fork. This morning, he laughed in his sleep. He really, really loves fans. Like his mama, he is a third child. He remains our peace maker and joy giver, and we all love him so.
Edit- My mom took exception to the only one present line. Arlo did, in fact, get several other presents that I forgot about because she gave them to him/ me early. Said presents include adorable pjs, handsome plaid one-pieces, and a new high chair.
Picture #2 really showcases the crookedness of our homemade table
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