My Super Cool "Cars" Cake we had when some of My Grandparents Came to Visit
You Could Actually Drive the Car on the Cake!!!
My Super Cool "Cars" Cake we had when some of My Grandparents Came to Visit
You Could Actually Drive the Car on the Cake!!!
I figure I need to start practicing my smile for all of the pictures I'm going to be taking with my new sister next week. Plus, I won't have the limelight all to myself much longer, so I need to ham it up while I can...and work on upping my game so I'm still numero uno around here.
Daddy also needs some attention, so he bought a couple of fedoras, which has really riled mommy. She thinks they are too silly - almost as silly as I look when I wear them.
I've also been spending as much time as possible on the phone with the grandparents. Usually, I give them the silent treatment so they think I am concentrating really hard on what they are saying to me. In truth, I'm just punishing them because they are sending presents to the house for this little girl who hasn't even been born yet and are leaving me high and dry. Well, not really high and dry, but every package that arrives on this doorstep needs to be for me and they need to understand that.
Of course, the biggest question of all is whether or not I'll be sharing my blog with this thing that is occupying mommy's tummy and making it impossible for me to sit on her lap. Personally, I think she should have her own, but I don't know how long it is going to take for her to learn how to type. I was about 11 weeks old before I started blogging, so we'll see if she can meet the high bar I have set for her. Until then, I may have to post updates for her. I've already thought of a great name for her website, though: Danja Days. In case you didn't know, Mommy has decided that Hadley's street name will be Danja (as in "danger"). If she and daddy can't decide on a middle name soon, that might be her legal name as well!
My very first car - a convertible, no less!
Naturally, I had to test drive my new wheels, with a car in hand of course.
Mommy and daddy gave me an M&M car. You push down on the red M&M's arm and the trunk pops open and pours out M&Ms. It rocks!
Making a big train on my new train table. Choo choo!
To ring in the new year (and to prepare for the imminent arrival of my baby sister), we went car shopping. As many of you know, daddy likes to get a new car about as often as most people buy new shoes. He's been driving the Volvo ever since he traded in mommy's Mini Cooper when I was born, so he was getting the itch. Mommy, however, declared that it was her turn to choose the vehicle and that we needed something with optional third row seating to accommodate our rapidly growing family and all the company we have. She decided that a Honda Pilot was the way to go, so we spent last Sunday in heaven, which is what I have dubbed the Honda dealership. I was there for almost three hours and "test drove" at least four different floor models all by myself while mommy and daddy sorted through paperwork and other stuff that didn't seem nearly as fun as honking the horn of a bright blue sports car. I think they are still trying to get my fingerprints off of the doors.
In other news, I am fighting a cold, have mastered the word "no" (which I pronounce very similarly to Homer Simpson), and have decided I need to wear my Thomas sunglasses to bed at night. Other than that, I'm just trying to milk being an only child for the next three weeks.

I know, I know, it has been a long time since I have written. Mommy put me through a 12-step detox program after spending nine days at Gran and Papa's over Thanksgiving, so this is really the first chance I've had to blog. So much has happened since I last wrote, that I don't even know where to begin. Granddaddy came to visit me right before Thanksgiving, which was really cool. He arrived on a Thursday, which is when mommy and I have MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) at church, and the day started out in a rather bloody mess. Mommy said we needed to leave early for MOPS because it was pouring down rain and traffic would be bad. She started loading things into the Jeep and told me to wait inside for her to come right back to get me. It was just as she said, "Thatcher Davis, don't come down the stairs," that I went head first down the metal stairs in our garage. She caught me on the second (of three) steps, but the damage was already done. I had busted my lip open in three places. There was blood everywhere and I was hysterical. Mommy in a classic "first time parent" move quickly scooped me up...and carried me into the study so she could read in her parenting books how to take care of a busted lip. Geez. After 20 minutes of consolation, counseling, and ice packs, we headed out the door (bloody shirt and all), where we were greeted only seconds later by an eight-point buck sprinting in front of the Jeep! Thankfully, mommy didn't hit it; but I didn't know how much more adventure I could take. All this and a visit from Granddaddy, too...that was a LOT for a little man to take.