Our beloved preschooler and oldest son {duh, Jake} seem to be suffering the moon's affects as well. Craziness abounds.
Can anyone say fit? During the super bowl, no less. He has no consideration for my adoration of Eli.
As we say often in our house: Being three is so hard! Especially when your parents tell you 400 times to stop throwing the ball in the house. And you don't listen. So they take it away. And put it on a shelf where you can see it but have no hope in hades of actually reaching it. Epic meltdown.
And he's also a little type A like his Mama. Exhibit A:
And now to the pooch. Our eldest son, first born dog, love of Lofton's life...
This sweet thing.
He ate through the sheet rock in the laundry room Friday. And he ate through the insulation in the wall. Oh, and our vacuum. Hell's bells doesn't even come close, friends.
Why so crazy, Jake? You're already on extra- strength anxiety medicine that costs over $100 per month. Honestly, who wants a new vacuum for valentine's day? Not I, but I have one now. I don't even vacuum! As punishment, our dogs now have the best life ever... they travel with Lofton all day. Riding in the truck {tethered, of course}, enjoying the fresh air, being pet frequently. Must be nice to be our dogs.
In fabulous news, little Boo and I are traveling home Friday to shower my favorite pregnant friend. I am already smitten with baby girl Nadeau and she doesn't arrive until April. I can't wait to celebrate she and her mama! This is such a sweet and special time.



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