dear pratt.

dear pratt,

when i close my eyes, this is what i see.

these faces. your faces. three of your most common little expressions.

they remind me of your daddy. of our simple little life here.

they remind me of warm chocolate chip cookies. and days where we never get out of our jammies.

they remind me of the countless times we read to you. or stack blocks with you. or talk to you. or answer your questions.

they remind me of my blessings. my many, many blessings.

i love you. i love you more than you could possibly imagine.

mommy.

just like dad.

so pratt was in need of rainboots. and well, i couldn't find any.

instead of rainboots...we got these bad boys.



and now he looks just like his daddy.



and i think they both really, really like it.

the best dad ever.

clint brought pratt a little something home friday night. a gift. and while pratt is only 16 months, the kid totally understood that his daddy has something really special for him.





needless to say, he LOVES it.







so thanks daddy. you're the best.

we are so lucky you belong to us.

sc style.

you get flames on your kroger car(t)...but only if you're cool enough to live in the, yes the...saline county.

the bookworm.

so yesterday i was cleaning the kitchen. and dora was on. and i thought pratt was playing in the den. because he doesn't really "watch" dora. it's more like every once in a while it will capture his attention and he'll look up. but really, the tv is background noise.

i know this is horrible. anywho...

it was awfully quiet in there. and i know enough about my sweet angel baby to know that i should check on what he's doing when it gets quiet.

and shame on me. because this is what i found...



just sitting in his favorite chair. reading a little bit of picture book.

oh how i love him.

play clay.

cookie bought pratt some neat play-doh for christmas. it's not really play-doh. it's actually called "play clay". it's non toxic and made completely from food. so...if the kiddo decides to chomp down on it, it's not that big of a deal.

the blue smells like blueberries and the red like strawberries. which does not bode well. because pratt of course, tried it. and judging by the look on his face, it was bitter.

anyway, i have always wanted a child old enough for us to play with play doh. on our kitchen table. covered with newspaper and wax paper. still in our jammies.

heaven on earth, folks.

and finally, ps. dear lord, why did you give my son the eyelashes i have always wanted?

dear cookie.

dear cookie,

so. remember how i always give you a hard time about not letting me and spencer cook in the kitchen with you? remember how you always would say, "look girls. don't you want to dry dishes!!? or maybe put the cupcake holders in? but...i'll do the stiring. and i'll do the mixing. and the rolling out of dough."

remember that?

well, i'm officially sorry. i'm sorry for not understanding that it is completely and totally painful to let a child attempt to make cookies with you.

ESPECIALLY when said child is 16 months old and really, really likes the way dough feels between his fingers.

picture this: pratt on the countertop. next to the mixing bowl filled with funfetti cookie batter. i'm rolling out balls. he is supposed to be "gently flattening" the dough.

well, there ain't nothing "gentle" about my son right now. he just smashes them with his little bitty hand.

and for everyone out there who thinks i'm horrible...i did allow a few hand smashed cookies to be baked. but i also "fixed" a few while he looked away.

i actually sent him over to the oven to watch the first set rise.

me: "look pratt! look at the cookies getting bigger! go over there and see!"
him: "hot? hot?"
me/mother of the year: "no! it's not hot. just go look!"

i was trying to do anything to keep him away from my perfectly flattened cookies.

so, mom...i get it. sorry for always giving you a hard time. maybe i'll send him your way. maybe he can cook with you. maybe you're now to a point where you don't mind?

yeah...i didn't think so either. :)

love, hannah.