Sleepy Baby

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

I've been bad lately. Luca is getting so big and not wanting to snuggle, so for his nap, I rocked him. Then I had him sleep next to me while I watched him sleep. Creepy right? I'm just getting a little sad that he's getting older, so I'm trying to suck it all up now before he doesn't want me to rock, kiss, hug, or snuggle with him.

Baw, Baw, Baw, Baw

First Christmas

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Does That Mean That He Is Not An Infant Anymore?

Thursday, December 16, 2010

So, up until now, I have been good about taking Luca's picture on the exact day each month, which is his birthday day. But of course, the month before his first birthday, I am two days late. No big deal right. Wrong. I am a little OCD, and this will bother me for a long time. So, my little bambino is 11 months, and I have one question: Is he not going to be considered an infant once he turns 1 years old? It is sad to think that this whole year went by like a snapshot. At 11 months, he can almost stand on his own, although he gets scared and squats rather quickly. He is also talking a lot. Ninety-nine percent of it we can't understand, but there is that one percent we can. He can say ball or baw, hi or ha, tata (dad in Serbian) or tita, and dada. Let the countdown begin.

Luca's First Haircut

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Today, Luca got his first haircut. Max and I weren't keen on getting his haircut, but everyone we encountered told us that he needed his haircut. So we faced the inevitable and cut his hair. We did get rid of the mud flaps hanging over his ears. I wanted my friend Ann to give him a fohawk, but his hair need to get longer in the back. We can make a fohawk on the top of his head though. For having such a crabby day, I was proud to say he was really good while getting his hair cut. Maybe it had something to do with me lying on the ground doing a puppet show with him.

Snow Dog

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

This is Samurai's comfort zone. He loves the snow and the cold weather; however, during this time he becomes a bad listener. He doesn't want to come inside at all, so when I am running late for something, which is typical, getting him inside becomes a twenty minute plea along with bribes.