Each night our bedtime routine goes: milk, bath, fight of the diaper, lying on the bathroom floor while mommy brushes our teeth, family prayer while one of us runs in circles -guess which one, and climbing over the lowered crib rail while giggling uncontrollably. Then Noah flops on his belly, goodnight and I love you's are exchanged, and we're outta there.
He is obsessed with cars. I once let him run wild at Payless and across the store I hear the loudest MOM COME HERE yell - he had spotted shoes on the top rack with Lightening McQueen.
He essentially lives outside and comes home to sleep and eat. One park in the morning, another in the afternoon.
We have become that family you see at a restaurant where the boy is climbing out of the high chair, shoving his toy car in his pizza, and shaking the pepper shaker all over the table. I have seen other children stare at Noah, point and report his bad doings to their mother, and look in amazement that his mother isn't stopping him.
We (sometimes) love the spunk packed into all 23 pounds of this boy! yep, 6% on the weight charts...