Lucas, my wee babe in arms, my last little sprog, my tiny boy, IS ONE.
That means that I almost don't really have any babies left. He stands on his own, he dances, he claps and sings a bit...that doesn't sound like a baby, does it? I mean, anything under one is a true baby. Older than one...well, it's just family life.
Say goodbye to the great excuses that go along with babies, too. It is easy to say, I have a baby, therefore I am:
-carrying baby fat
Don't get me wrong, I will not be abandoning any of the above excuses. Especially the top two. Lukey is a mess-maker and his favourite thing to do is rub his face, which is always covered in whatever food he is pretending to eat, all over my shoulder. Instant disgustingness. And late...well, I was late before kids. I actually think I might be better than I was, but there are times that the sheer volume of kids makes me drastically underestimate the amount of time it takes to get out the door. So, you may all continue to add 12 minutes to my ETA.
Lukey celebrated in style on his birthday, with a breakfast of pancakes and eggs benedict in the morning and dinner at Swiss Chalet in the evening. They even sang him a birthday song, which he adored.
Happy Birthday Lucas. You are a the guy we were waiting for...your sweet and loving nature and fun-seeking spirit are a joy to have around. And thanks for the great impetus to start blogging (and thanks to Darren for the birth gift of a domain name that has kept on giving!!!).