Curls, curls, curls

Conor is getting an attitude.

A cute, adorable, and frustrating attitude. It took me 15 minutes to put on and tie his shoes this am, followed by another 10 minute showcase showdown getting on his jacket. If he wasn't so cute and loving, I would put him out on the street. I think the curls make me keep him.

His is also beginning to communicate more and more. He isn't much of a talker nor does he mimic sounds. I like to think of him as the strong and silent type (think John Wayne or Marlon Brando). He knows animals, colors, and objects but his words and voice are so amazing. I do think he called me "bad" today, then called me "noda".

It is funny how my birthday is cool and all, but he is way more important to me. I was more excited about his first real cake experience, than blowing out the candles on my cake or presents.

Oops...a nap is over!