At Christmas the Zoo is lit up with lights. This was the first year we went and it was beautiful. We had a great time with Grandma and Grandpa and the Rages cousins. I hope this becomes a Christmas tradition. By the way, Katie went with us. She is in the moby under my coat nice and cozy.
We were able to see the Grand Illumination at Williamsburg this year. We tried to see it when William was about 10 months old. We booked a hotel room for two nights and got to the historic area in plenty of time. However, William let it be known that Illuminations were not his thing. Loud and persistant crying drove us back to our hotel room.
Several years later he decided he really like the illumination. We did too.
One of the most gratifying thigns about this Thanksgiving was when William came around the corner and saw the table set for our feast. He came to a dead stop, sucked in his breath, and then said, "that is beautiful", with a big smile on his face.
However, as you can see I did not get a picture of the beautiful set table. It wasn't on purpose. I just forgot. Which is perhapse telling. It isn't the china that makes Thanksgiving. It's the faces behind the china that are the most important.
I have asked myself more times than I can count, "Why do we have a
closet, no a room full of toys for our son?". Moreover, "Why do I
stress about trying to find him 'good' toys?". He never plays with them,
or hardly ever. Part of me still believes its because I just have not found him
the right ones. I wonder if perhaps he will turn out to be a sissy momma’s boy
because all he ever wants to do is whatever I'm doing. Well that is an
overstatement. He does spend quite a bit of time outside, but not really playing
with toys. Filling socks up with red dirt in order to transport it from one
part of the yard to another, yes. And also, yes, they are the socks he was
wearing when I sent him out to play. Why he feels the need to have sock buckets
instead of using the three real buckets he has I'll never know. Just an aside,
I've figured out how to deal with the red dirt stains all over his socks.I just buy socks with blue bottoms and you
can't tell if they are dirty or stained.
Below is yet another way in which he occupies his time. Notice the flowers
on the dogs head and his own. I'm not sure how long this game went on, but I do
know it was much longer than any of the times he spends playing with a toy. I'm sure you would not think to wonder where
this pretty yellow flower came from, so let me enlighten you. It came from a
mum I was trying to use to spruce up our front porch. We have, or I should say
had, mums, bushes and a rose bush around our porch. Perhaps the rose bush will
survive. If it does it will not have roses on it. Again, I can not understand
the logic behind it, but my son can not resist the temptation to pluck peddles,
leaves, and even branches. No amount of training, teaching, spanking,
threatening, or bribing seems to work. Combine this habit with dogs who like to
dig and you have one frustrated gardener.