Wyatt loves his taggie.
(He has three that were all made by my mom with one silk side and one minky side and about a million ribbons folded in half and sewn in between.)
When I say love, I mean love.
It's with him all the time.
Even when he's playing chase with his brothers, he has it looped around his finger, usually the thumb, and it waves like a flag behind him as he runs.
Today I captured some pictures of him with it.
(There's just nothing cuter than a big baby in a diaper!)
He would run, run, run away from Jack, then PLOP down on the floor and find a "good one" to put around his finger.
It was some kind of game to him. With its own little rules.
Once he had switched ribbons, he'd POP back up and squeal in delight as his brothers ran away from him shouting, "Can't catch me, Wyatt! Can't catch me!"
Yesterday he came to me in the kitchen saying, "Oh no. Fix it. Oh no. Fix it." I turned from the muffins I was making to see what he was talking about.
He had a little yellow ribbon in one hand,
and his beloved Owl taggie in the other.
When I told him I couldn't fix it, Jack tried to come to the rescue and started to get the Scotch tape. When I told them both that that wouldn't work, this was Wyatt's face.
What!?! You can't solve all the world's problems? What kind of mother are you???
I told him he could keep the extra ribbon in his vest pocket, and that seemed to make him feel better.
PS- How cute are his new monkey Robeez?
Every time I put them on him he goes, "ooh!ooh! ahh! ahh!" like a monkey.
And because I really can't get enough of him in his diaper, these are for you, mom.
Delicious fat baby rolls and all.
It's just so rare that he run around in a diaper because of the weather here that I've tried to be better about capturing it when it happens.
On this day last week, it was snowing.
Big beautiful flakes that floated down for hours.
Every time any of us walked by a window, we would stop and stare.
It was mesmerizing.
Apparently, even to a baby!
This morning I decided to give little buddy a haircut.
It was getting pretty long on top, and looking rough around the edges.
It's a lot of work to cut his hair- I use the old bath seat I have so he's stuck, fill the tub with water so he can play, and get to work with a pair of scissors and a comb.
The end result is a handsome little boy whose fingers and toes are wrinkled as raisins and whose hair is trim as can be.
Here are some photos I snapped of Wyatt trying to brush his teeth.
He can barely stand on the stool and stay upright,
but he always wants to.
Because that's what the big boys do.
In preparation for getting rid of his binky, which I am planning to do on Monday, I have been telling him that "big boys" like Logan & Jack do not have binkies. Then I ask if he's a baby or a big boy and he tells me with complete sincerity and a lot of effort, "Big boy!" And I think he really believes it!
I, on the other hand, look at him, with his baby rolls, his sweet tiny chin, his button nose and his heavy cheeks and see nothing but baby no matter how hard I try!