Feast of Love

I love to watch Bo eat.

Is that weird to say?

But I do. Some of my favorite times during the week are when MB is in school and Bo and I have lunch to ourselves. He has some pretty strong preferences in terms of food. He prefers chicken [in any form] and detests pasta [in any form, including mac n cheese]. But when he finds something he really likes, he eats it with gusto. Sometimes, like today, he even pulls on his hair in sheer delight.

And for dessert? A game of peek-a-boo. Only he pats his head instead of his eyes.

Love.

This.

Baby.

This Ain’t My First Bodeo

Except that he is my first Bodeo.

My first and only Bodeo.

Can I tell you how hard it is not to spoil this child rotten? There is nothing I wouldn’t give him.  So far he doesn’t ask for much [except Nutter Butters–this remains an issue], but I foresee some problems if he stays this precious well into his second year.

Do you see those cheeks? It’s impossible to be in close proximity to them and not bury your lips in them.  He has not yet decided that this is repulsive to him, but when that day comes, I can tell you: I will take to my bed and cry.

So far his words consist of:

Bye-bye [which he says with the southernest of southern accents]

Mama [melts my heart]

Uh-uh [while he shakes his head at the mashed potatoes I’m advancing toward his face]

We’re still working on uh-oh. He’s got the uh part and can occasionally say the oh part, but not in context.

So there you have it. And now he has poops, which I don’t even mind changing, because that means I get to kiss him all the way to the nursery and back.

If Bo ran the USDA

He would definitely take issue with the new food pyramid. First of all, it’s not a pyramid. But they’re still sort of calling it a pyramid.

Bo can’t really talk so much yet [other than Buh-Buh], but I have to imagine that he would object to such a blatant misnomer.

Secondly, there are far too many vegetables on this plate for his taste. This is more like it:

What? Is this a problem?