Saturday, November 5, 2011

Not a baby.

Turning 1 means you're not a baby anymore. You're a toddler. Officially. And there are certain rights and privileges that should come with being a toddler. Mess making is one of those privileges.

The actual day of Henry's birthday we decided that he should be given the opportunity to make a proper mess at dinner time, so we turned him loose on a plate of spaghetti. And of course we had the camera right there to capture this sauce-covered face.




Followed directly by capturing this cookie-covered face.




We also decided last week to have a large pitiful looking tree removed from our front landscaping. It just so happens that our landscapers came to remove the tree while Henry was having Spaghettifest 2011 in our kitchen. It also just so happens that they accidentally broke a water line while removing the tree, leading to Henry getting a baby wipes bath in the kitchen sink.



A little earlier that same day I took Henry out for a little "1 year Old" photo session in his birthday shirt.





Henry wasn't the only one who got lured in front of my camera this week. I was also able to get a few images of Henry's sweet playmate, Emerson, and her brother, Hayden.





This year, as it seems it does every year, fall has really snuck up on me. It's always as though I know the time is getting close, the weather gets a little nicer, and then before I know it the leaves on the trees are ruby red. There's no turning back at this point. Fall is here.



Last fall I was curled up in the house with my newborn. This year I chased my toddler around the pumpkin patch.





We lead Henry in and out of the rows and rows of pumpkins, waiting for some indication from him about which pumpkin he wanted to take home. Turns out, he was there for the gravel.



We did, finally, sway his interest towards the main attraction.



We managed to leave with a pumpkin of perfect proportions. And a couple of days later, on Halloween, I was absolutely sure I was going to butcher it beyond recognition trying to carve it. I have to say, for a pumpkin-carving rookie, I surprised myself just a little.



My Brit is really into Halloween. And by that I mean that he carved his own tombstones from styrofoam using a sautering gun and created a self-stirring foggy witches' cauldron with paper mache and a windshield wiper motor. Now that's geeky. And it makes for a very spooky Halloween yard.





Henry, however, was not all that intimidated.



We have such a good neighborhood for trick or treating. There are so many houses within the radius of a just few blocks and most everyone gets into the spirit of Halloween. You never know who is going to answer the door when they hear "Trick or Treat!".



This was Henry's first year of actual trick-or-treating. He was actually just kind of along for the ride with his two older cousins who came to hang out with us on Halloween. Ella Grace was our perfect little Pocahontas and Cohen was our brave little Batman (complete with Doberman ears).



Will and I were dressed as pirates for Halloween (Arrrghhh!). And what's a pirate without a parrot?




Henry's attire was pretty much the most appropriate costume he could have worn. He is quite the parrot these days, repeating so many of the words that we say on a regular basis. And his newest trick is the pointer finger that he so precisely uses to motion us to the direction we need to go to do his bidding, or to which bite he wants next from his plate. Sweet chubby finger.



A busy, wonderful week. And next week promises more of the same!

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