Henry Tate

 

Shoews on pweese

So today is Henry’s Birthday. He is three today. I’ve seen some of my friends do birthday messages on their blogs and I think it’s a good idea seeing as this really is the journal. I want to remember Henry at this age because, it’s pretty funny.

“Me no jail, me good”

“bou obu boubou brauer (brother) say he no my brauer”

“Me want ride on the twain, wif dad. Where twain go?”

“Tat goose a eat me”

“Tat Cat got scwary eyes”

Henry, you love Abe more than anyone in the world. You follow him around and try to mimic his every move, even when Abe accidently hurts himself. You are very quick to use you banshee screamer voice to get what you want, but you are SLOWLY learning to ask for things with your “big boy voice,” which is a little harder because it takes you a long time to find the words you want to use. Your job is to put away the kids dishes, we usually have to chase you down and start moving your hands to get you to do your job but you are always pleased with yourself when you finish. You can get your own drink. You think your name is Hengwry, but that doesn’t matter since you have never told anyone what your name is. You are pretty selective about who you hand out your love to, people you do love feel privileged and overwhelmed by how much work it is to keep “scwary” things away. Holy moly the things you are scared of.

Trucks, cats, snakes, dogs, water, rocky, Stacey, strangers, heights (like sitting at the bar), fireworks, crabs, the list does go on.

You love nursery and you love your grandmas. You love to sleep. You love “Flew flies.” You love to eat.  .  .a lot. You crack us up every day, we are grateful to have you. Please stop coloring on the walls. I love you too  much.

Love,

Mom