My Child's an Alien, Right?

Grant and I have had a good time playing outside over the last few days. It was been remarkably mild, so we have been spending a good amount of time with the squirrels in our front yard. Just recently Grant has started using a new mode of transportation. Walking, you say? Not quite...

This cross-breed of crawling and walking has become his favorite way of getting around. It looks like an alien has taught my child how to move (if not an alien, then a small furry animal... and his name might be ALF).

In other news... while we are outside, it is a constant struggle to keep things out of his mouth. But I am determined to teach him not to put every leaf, stick or rock in his mouth. So, we sit down, he picks something up, I tell him "No, No" and we repeat the process. Well, he slipped something by me the other day. I took my index finger and scooped it out of his mouth before he had a chance to swallow it. What do I find? Dried bird poop!!! Joys of having a son, you say? I say it is more proof that he really is being raised by aliens!

This expression always makes me laugh! "OOOOOO!" And Gary and I always repeat it. We have a running joke that this will be Grant's only word because it is the only sound we constantly reinforce!

"What's under this rock, Mom?" His hands were filthy by the time we went inside. But he had fun exploring!