Tate

Tate is such a macho little man. He is talking pretty good these days and is constantly entertaining me. He loves to have books read to him. He especially likes the nursery rhymes. He can recite the words to Little Miss Muffett, Itsy Bitsy Spider, Hey, Diddle, Diddle,and There Was An Old Woman (everytime we read this one he has to point out the boy who is swinging by a giant shoe lace because he is Indiana Jones).
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My mom used to always say this when we found a coin on the ground....Find a penny, pick it up, all day long you'll have good luck! So, of course, I say it too! Funny how that is. And so when Tate finds money anywhere (even when he finds it in the money jar) he exclaims, " Mom, oook! It's my ucky day!"
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Last night Tate took a pretty bad fall into a toy box and scraped his cheek. He was really sad...understandably. He didn't want ice because it is sooooo cold. So Burke went in the kitchen and brought him a piece of ham. OK. This would not have even crossed my mind as a possible cold press. But that is why men and women compliment each other, I suppose. Tate was happy to press it to his cheek. A minute later, we couldn't find the meat. Turns out a little emotional eating is just what Tate needed to overcome his little tumble... "I et it." he said with a pursed grin and raised eyebrows.

I wanna squeeze him, he's so freakin' cute!!!!!!