Boys Will Be Boys

Hand to my heart, pinky swear, needle in my eye, all that jazz, I'm really the rough-houser in this family. I am the one to fling the kid a little harder and a little higher and to chase him down. I'm the one to rile him up five minutes before bed or give him a cookie right before nap and wonder why he's not sleeping. Still, Daddy gets in on the action a good deal of the time too. Actually, he's the one who gets involved just enough of the time that when there's an injury, like a smashed head into the wall hard enough to cry, that's Daddy. My theory is: practice makes perfect, so rough-house all the time! That way you won't break a bone, right? He's a boy!

They had a blast this morning.

Collin slept like a rock at nap time today; a statement that has never made much sense to me since rocks don't sleep. Suffice it to say that he slept for nearly four hours when we finally went to wake him up; this displeased him greatly.


Alas, can you say no to rough-housing with a kid who's having this much fun with his Daddy?

On a couch that looks this soft? Even if he's being tickle tortured under the inescapable Daddy?