Remember when Weston went through that phase where he would form every statement into a question? "What is this thing that is a broccoli, mama?" Or that phase where every night at dinner he would hold food in his mouth until he was sick and spit it out all over the place. Ugh, I hated that phase. Mike and I have started reminding each other that "it's just a phase, he will outgrow it" when we come across a new, unpleasant habit. He has good phases, bad phases and gross phases. I loved the phase where I could get him to do anything in the world by saying "I'll ask daddy to do it". Then Weston would yell "NO! Westons do it!" I loved the phase where Weston would shriek "WHAT?! WHAT?!" when something surprised him or made him laugh.
Today I realized that I have my own phases, too. About a year ago I wanted to buy a replacement set of dishes. The ones we got when we were first married where chipped and dinged. I looked around and found a some sets that I liked. Then I realized that I am in the "
Corelle dishes" phase of life. If I wanted nice, expensive, breakable dishes, I shouldn't have had children. So I went out and bought myself some cheap, child-resistant plates. Then today I was at the grocery store looking at Vanilla extract. The choices were McCormick pure vanilla extract, McCormick imitation vanilla extract, Store Brand pure vanilla, Store Brand imitation and some outrageously expensive organic kind. As I compared the prices I had to remind myself that I am in the imitation vanilla phase of life.
Dallin is in the curious, exploring, climbing, falling, bonking, crying, giggling, obsessed with Weston phase of life.
Are they done yet?
Are they done yet?
Are they done yet?
Today is Weston's first day of Pre-School. He has been so excited he could hardly sleep. He was up and in my bed this morning a half hour earlier than usual. (That's okay, I needed to get up anyway) There were no attachment problems once I dropped him off. (I put on my brave face) 
I bought a set of wall stickers at IKEA and had a nice little collage on the wall. But the stickers kept peeling and other kids would come over and try to scratch them off. So the other night I gave up. I said to Weston, "Go peel those stickers off the wall and stick them to your brother". 
