The Horror, The Horror...

So. This Christmas, we decided that we really, really liked candy canes:


And Mom found a promising recipe for brownies with candy canes crumbled into them. And this seemed like a fun, post-Christmas tradition... take down the tree, smash candy canes, eat brownies. What could be better? Since we'd taken so happily to the sensory bin, I thought it might be fun to let him try smashing the candy canes. I put them in a ziplock bag and sat with him on the floor with a small pot and a frisbee. And I hit the bag a few times to demonstrate, and then I handed everything over to him.

He looked at the bag and he looked at me. And then he handed the bag back to me expectantly, as if to say, "Alright Mom, stop playing around and give me one of these."

And I took another couple of whacks at the candy canes. And he cried.

But we thought the brownies were delicious. Even if Mom is a candy cane murderer.

The Catsitter

She tries so hard.
But we probably don't need any more feline help on the sleep training front.

I Know Someone Who Had TWO Birthday Parties

It was this guy! What a lucky little man!




But we still did not want to wear our hat.



















We did eat lots of cake.














Lots and lots of cake.






















And there were cascarones!






















And presents!

And a well deserved nap.*

*photos may not represent order of events,
since we kind of fell asleep before the cake and presents

First Blood

Why are you crying? Mom is the one bleeding. She needed a bandaid and everything. She's such a trooper.

Sometimes We Has A Sad

And I think it is to Mom's credit that we usually don't stand around taking pictures of the sad.

Usually.