That's Our Boy!

Have I mentioned his hair grows like a weed?! Since he was 8 months old, we've been giving him professional haircuts (I am too afraid I'll mess it up and can't have my kid psychologically scarred because his mother gave him a lousy haircut). It seems, now, we have to do this monthly. So I'm really contemplating cosmetology school so I can at least learn how to give him a decent cut because 17 more years of this could be costly! But having a little fun with his slightly overgrown "do," I spiked it up and he was more than willing to ham it up for the camera. He must have known how cute he looked!

At the beginning of October, we pulled out a Scarecrow, donned the front porch with a festive pumpkin and a colorful mum, fully supporting and embracing the fall festivities. Trouble was, all the decor was outdoors. So Nana bought him his own Scarecrow and I don't think he has another toy that could take its place right now. He kisses it, hugs it, rolls around on the floor with it, and for some reason, is completely attached to this almost-his-size friend. (Of course Jackson is desperately trying to claim it as his own, but Elijah ain't giving it up for nothing!)

Easter. He was 11 months old when he got his first set of clubs. Plastic, yes. He could barely stand at the time, certainly not on his own. But Daddy's been waiting - patiently awaiting the day that he would teach his son ... Golf.

I have long-since said I'd be my son's biggest fan. I will paint up, don the jersey, make my own cardboard signs and bring my pom poms. But something's wrong. I can't yell running along the sidelines of the back 9. I can't perform a cheer for my son when the caddy is holding up a sign that says "Quiet Please." I certainly won't be donning a jersey and facepaint when proper country club attire is requred. Hmm...I'm going to need to re-think this. Hon, what about basketball? Can't we teach him that?! (Doesn't he know I was the captain of the cheerleading squad for basketball?!)