Mr. Pickles

Elmtree photography


Matthew walked around all day today saying, "I am Mister Pickles," in his best imitation of an English high society voice. I have no idea where he got that from, but it cracked me up.

Mr. Pickles turned three last month. He is pretty much potty trained, but would rather just go in his diaper than stop playing. He would rather do just about anything than stop playing. We went to Texas to see my sister last month and he didn't eat more than a few bites at a time for two days because he was so excited by all the new toys that he couldn't be bothered to eat.

He is usually the first child awake and snuggles in my bed with me while I try to wake up. He is passionate about all cars, but especially "Cars" cars. Most every week he asks me if he can wear his Batman jammies to church and is so disappointed when I say no. Party pooper, I know.

He wouldn't talk to his Dad for a week when he left. Every time I would try to talk him into it..."Daddy misses you. Please talk to him," he would shake his head and say, "No. He leaved me. He really really leaved me." Sad. And "really really." Sometimes he tells me, "Mommy? I just really really." And that's it. He just really really.

He is the sweetest child ever when he is sweet - smiling and saying, "Thank you Mom!" when I wipe his poopy bottom - and the most rotten child ever when he is rotten. A child of extremes for sure.