Vintage Christmas Pictures!

Way back in 2001 Chris was already a part of my family. *awww*

Here's me with curly hair. Wow. I was like, all of 18 in this picture!

Chris, with no facial hair!! WOW. And Anna, Tim, Ariel, Jim Erkel, and Marise.

Hey look, all of us! From Left to Right: Sara-Mikaela, Tim, Ariel, Anya, Marise, Jonny, Jim Morsicato, Grandma Margaret, Tena, Ed, Joanna Morsicato, Anna, and Jim Huckabay.
How was that for a trip down memory lane!! Wow.

First real sentence!!

James said his first actual, gramatically correct sentence today! (The back story: Chris drank all the root beer that we were supposed to be sharing, and apologized for not leaving me any.)

James: "Daddy said sorry!"

The closest thing to a sentence before this was a few months ago when James said "Hound out pee." Pretty good description of how MacGuyver spends his time, actually.

The Terrible Two...

year molars are making their entrance. Poor James has been in pain for several days, and he won't even eat a banana when his mouth hurts, which is saying something, as banana is his favorite food. He actually calls them "nums" rather than bananas. We have to give him Tylenol a good 30 minutes before he eats in order for him to even try to eat without just whimpering and grabbing at his mouth and cheeks.

Poor baby. Teething sucks. I actually will say that teething is the worst part about having James. It turns our usually happy and laid back boy into a little whiney, grumbly, bitey, pinchy, cranky monster child. Who doesn't sleep at night. Because you know I missed getting up at 3am to soothe my baby back to sleep. Oh wait.

At least these are the last teeth for a few years.

How Not to Encourage Your Child to Like Dinosaurs

James loves dinosaurs, or "saurs" as he calls them. He has dinosaur books and dinosaur jammies, and he delights in pointing out the "saurs" on his shoes. I thought it would be neat to show him the big, red, roaring dinosaur they have on display at Target.

Apparently seeing something that is your size roaring and stomping around is pretty scary. Even scarier than that is showing him a small, molded plastic dinosaur that neither roars nor moves as an effort at demonstrating that not all dinosaurs are scary. That sent James into such a terror that people actually came from the next aisles over to look at me and see what I had done to my child, because surely only a child that is actively being abused cries like that. I told James I was sorry and carried him around a bit, but I may have gotten him off the dinosaur kick. I also managed to thoroughly terrify him of going down any aisle in the toy department. Oops. Well, you live, you learn.