Today, my little Charlie is four.
He was lifted into the world during a record-breaking delivery day in Billings, Montana, during a snowstorm. No one could come to see him in the hospital except for his grandmother, father and mother, due to a Whooping Cough, Influenza and RSV outbreak.
He was nearly three times the size of his sister, being born at 6 pounds, 10 ounces.
He has the names of Scott's father (Charles, though only known as Buzz) and my father's middle name, Ragnvald. We should have immediately started calling him "Rags" or stuck with "Buster". When I ask him if he's still my baby he says "No, I'm CHARLIE".
Since he's had hair, it's been shocking, Billy-Idol-white. Why do boys always get this do when I have to pay for that color?
His Nemo swim trunks are size 12 months. This is the fourth year he's been wearing them.
He now hollers at the barking Psychopoodle "Awwwwww, SHUTH UPpppp" in a perfection imitation of Sylvester.
His patron saints are Goofy, Mickey, and Donald.
He loves his strider bike. He looks for all the bumps to bump da bump de bump.
He had his first visit to the dentist last Wednesday and attempted to abscond with all the equipment. He especially liked the water spouter-thingy.
His willfulness is astounding. I haven't heard him say "my way or the highway" yet, but I know he's thinking it.
He calls his sister "Ta-Ta". She calls him "CharrrrReeee".
He's not a vegetarian. He might be considered a green beantarian, a peanut buttertarian, a sausagetarian, frutarian or a fromagatarian. He also love pistachios.
He can hear the train coming 5 minutes before anyone else can. He also turns down the music when his dad turns it up. I am waiting to see if he can predict earthquakes like his grandfather Jon Justad. I think we may have a sound engineer in our future.
He now can operate his own "geee-mote".
He loves the cats in our house. He seems to be without opinion about the dog when it's not barking.
He wears custom-knitted delights from his grandmother and his friend Zipper.
He has names for all his pants, including Diego, Mickey, Bob the Bilker, Mater and Apple pants.
He used to call his grandmother "PeePaw" but now calls her "Gramma".
He can operate a mouse.
He has made our family complete.
Saturday, February 07, 2009
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4 comments:
He is precious and sweet and I love him immensely. Happy Birthday Charlie!
*sniff*
He reminds me so much of my little boy (who just turned 11). I have to share this photo of a photo of him, because the one you posted of Charlie reminds me of it. Here.
So Happy Birthday, Charlie!
Oh yeah, my son's hair looked a lot like your son's, until his dad took him to the barber at age 2-ish. It's been buzz cuts ever since. *sniff*
I think I'll tell people from now on, that I am a fromagatarian.
Can't believe he's four already. I remember that picture from the hospital.
He's beautiful, and your post made me smile from ear to ear.
Happy Birthday, Charlie!
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