As many of you know, I cried the entire time I was pregnant with my third child. I felt so overwhelmed with two! But something wonderful happened. Or a combination of factors that worked out to be wonderful. For one, Noah is a sweet baby. Also, it turns out the more babies you have, the better you get at handling babies. Even once they turn into one-year-old babies and start getting into everything! It also helps that he seems to only learn to say sweet things.
We agreed to take the first-grade’s twenty-gallon tank of guppies, frogs, and snails home for the summer. My friend Lynette says, “I’m convinced that you’re the Pied Piper for children and pets.” Well, she’s right. WHAT OF IT?
Ahem. I liked the frogs, and everything else in the tank was kind of “meh.” But I have felt much happier toward all the critters ever since Noah woke up from his nap, came out into the living room, spied them, and immediately cried out, “My buppies!! My buppies!!” He parked himself in front of the tank, and has barely left since.
It turns out that that’s how he says “buddy.” He keeps saying this. I just can’t think of anything cuter than an enthusiastic one year old and his tank full of buddies.
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Further cuteness–I just got this picture from Noah’s father.
He was in his dad’s office and found my photo. Here, he’s saying, “My mommy.” When he wakes up from nap, he talks around the edge of his binky as if it were a cigar.
I’m glad we’re buppies, Noah.
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