First Day of School

Dawson started his second year of preschool at CCS yesterday. Here's some pics from the first day!

 

My little man.

Love this boy! He's so proud...and so are we. :)

D and his ladies, Averi & Veda.

That's not fair.

Dawson and I were sharing a salad (actually I was eating a salad and D was eating all of my toppings) and this is how our conversation went:

D: "Mom the food can't ride on your leaves (spinach)! That's not fair!"

So I had an unfair advantage using a fork I guess!

I'm too important.

Mom: "Dawson its time to take a nap."

Dawson: "No Mom. I'm too important to take a nap."

Overruled D, overruled.

Dentists & Donuts

Obviously we celebrated a successful first trip to the dentist today with a donut....

Beard

Dawsonism:
"I got a beard!"

Translation:
"I got a brain freeze!"

That akward moment...

Weenie.

Having a son with a tag-along, stuffed wiener dog named Weenie has been cause of some seriously akward moments.

Like today, in the dressing room at the store when Dawson yelled, "I need to get my Weenie out!". What he meant was, "My stuffed wiener dog appears to be stuck in the cart and I can't reach him. Could you please get him for me Mom?". I'm sure the dressing room attendant had Child Services on hold when we left.

Or last month at the grocery check out, Dawson pointed to me and announced, "Look, Mommy has a Weenie!". But what the newly acquired audience didn't know was that I was wearing a Pink brand sweatshirt with a dog silhouette on it (which happens to be their logo) and at the time he called all dogs 'Weenie', hence the awkward, panicked, sweaty silence.

Or when we were out on a walk a few weeks ago and Dawson shouted for all to hear, "Look Mommy! It's a REALLY big Weenie!". But what the horrified dog walker didn't know is that my son, has this stuffed animal that's named Weenie....

It sounds bad no matter how you try to say it. "But look, at the tag! Well, the name is worn off now because he has been well loved. But it used to say 'Weenie'.".....

Oh boy.

He Made Me A Momma.

Last night, in light of Mother's Day, Daryn was asking me my favorite thing about being a Mom. It didn't take me too long to arrive at my answer.

That I was chosen to be his Mom.

Of course I think he's the cutest, smartest, sweetest most perfect thing, well ever. But it's the little things that come with the title that I love the most. The kissing of the owies or when he rests his head on my shoulder after a long day. When looks at me with those big, brown eyes and wants to 'snuggle buggle'. Holding his hand while we stroll down the side walk or listing to him hum himself to sleep.

My heart can barely contain itself at times. It skips a beat when I think about how blessed I am that God choose me, me!, to be his Mom. I never knew I had the capacity to love like this until he showed me how.

I still gush over him when I walk into his room at night to kiss his forehead before I go to bed and can hardly find the words to express how much I care for him. I just beam looking at him and am so proud of the little man he already is.

I love you little man. Thanks for making me a Momma. It's my toughest, most challenging, proudest title yet.