We used to call him Mr. Noodle because of that crazy curly hair on the side of his head and bald spot on top.
We had to get a night nurse when he was 11 weeks old because we were all so exhausted. He had a habit of waking up every 45 minutes you see. Nice.
We then found out the poor dude had torticollis and acid reflux. Physical therapy and Prevacid helped that out. Oh and an un-descended testicle. Surgery helped that out.Art kept saying, don't worry he will get easier.
I'm still waiting for that to happen.
But he is just So. Stinkin'. Cute.
He KILLS me with how incredibly adorable he can be, while he hits you. It's true.
THE HAIR!
The smile
The smile
The personality.
The sense of humor.
The kids got it all, and I know I'm in trouble for life with him.
The sense of humor.
The kids got it all, and I know I'm in trouble for life with him.
His sister calls him a maniac, and I can't necessarily disagree.
It ain't ever getting easier with Sydney.
But that's okay, as long as he continues to be my little boy.
It ain't ever getting easier with Sydney.
But that's okay, as long as he continues to be my little boy.
He wakes up every morning and asks for 3 things, all in this order:
"I want daddy"
"I want to eat oatmeeaaalk"
"I want to play puzzles"
"I want to eat oatmeeaaalk"
"I want to play puzzles"
He's one cool kid. I know I'm biased and all, but he really is.
I love you little man. My Sydney boy. Our Bubba.
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