23 days since my last post. I would feel bad about it but I’ve been too busy fighting freaking IMPETIGO. It started with a scratch on Margaret Hannah’s nose and made its way through all 3 big kids. No bueno.
It was yuck.
But I’m here now, and that’s what matters. Here to dish out a little mush about Gregory Amos Hamilton Ferrell (Or Gregree AaaaaaMOS Hamten Perrah if you ask him) on this fine Wednesday.
He’s pretty much just growing up like WHOA! His vocabulary has exploded, he likes to pretend, and he’s out of diapers PAH-RAISE THE LORT!
He replaces his D’s with G’s so when he says “Don’t do that” it sounds like “Gon’t goo that” and it’s the cutest. Or “Ungawear.” He wears those now, instead of underware. But backwards. Always backwards.
He doesn’t like when you mock him, either.
When he wakes up or we get home from the daycare, he says “I think I need sumptin’ to eat.” EVERY.SINGLE.TIME he walks past the pantry or refrigerator. I’d be hungry all the time too if I kept deciding I didn’t like things I was eating just a few days before. Inside either of those places lives 3 or 4 things he will consume, and it’s frustrating FOR REAL. But hey, he’s pooping and growing like normal. He’s cool.
He doesn’t like to watch TV. Only to sit all over you.
I don’t mind.
In his classroom, they’re learning colors and days of the week. He is constantly asking if things are green and singing “Se-ben days in a week,” while he dances around holding up five and two fingers. The best! Some days he has to sit in timeout on the playground because he collects acorns like it’s his job and throws them at passers-by. And bites his sister.
He sleeps on the bottom bunk right by himself with his 4 blankets. It’s never ok for Margaret Hannah to be on the bed with him either.
We have chalk paint on the pantry doors and a chalk board at kid level in the playroom that he always asks if it’s ok to go chalkin’ on. That’s code for “Mom, I’m gonna bang on the wall and see how much chalk dust I create.”
He really likes to eat pistachios and cashews. Not chicken nuggets or a potatoes. Just the expensive nuts. And party food. ALWAYS party food.
Now that he understands that ABC’s isn’t just a song, he likes to call out letters and spell things. Mostly everything is spelled A.M.O.S. or P.E.B.O.S.4, but you have to drag out every letter when you say them. You get a high five if you just went back and read those letters in his voice.
He killed it as John Hammond from Jurassic Park for Halloween, too. He didn’t let that walking stick out of his sight, and I’ve only found a few packs of skittles hidden in his bed.
He’s also funny. And he knows it. AND he likes to keep toys in his underwear. He’s a keeper for sure.
We love this kid so so much.