January 5th, 2012

I was working out in the living room this morning and Camden was absolutely cracking up as he watched me. I don't blame him. I can only imagine what I looked like. Well... there goes my fitness instructor career.
Granfy loves singing his made up song to Camden. The minute he begins singing, Camden points at Granfy and yells "NO!". Granfy, of course, finds this absolutely hilarious. So whenever Camden misbehaves, I blame it on Granfy. It can't be our parenting.
Camden asked me to get his puzzle down the other day. He sat on the floor as I was bringing it to him. I had almost set it in front of him when he accidentally knocked over his sippy cup. I stopped and said "Camden, first pick up your sippy cup". Camden surprised me by doing what I said right away. I happily set the puzzle down in front of Camden. Once the puzzle was within his reach, he purposefully knocked over his sippy cup and looked at me. That little...
Last night Camden had Lucky Charms dipped in Spaghettios for dinner.
So school supposedly does not play favorites. Let me know what you think after reading this. Camden has a truck at school that he's particularly fond of. The teachers save this truck for him, by putting it high up on a shelf and presenting it to him when he walks in the door. If they don't give it to him right away, he walks right into the room and does a quick survey to make sure no one is playing with his truck. The kids also know this is "Camden's" truck. A boy happened to be playing with the truck and a little girl named MacKenzie ran up to the teacher pointing and shouting "Camden's truck! Camden's truck!" I blame both school and Granfy for any behavioral problems Camden may have...
Poor Camden had a rough night the other night. I think he's getting a molar, because he was holding both sides of his cheeks saying "Howie!" I finally took him out on the couch to sleep with me. He would be fine with me sharing his pillow and then it would make him mad. I spent most of the night flipping from one side of the couch to the other. When he was ready for me to have my head on his pillow again he would tap me, point at the pillow and say "Wite Dere!" Which meant he wanted my head "right there."
I know there aren't too many Kellan stories. That's because he's a perfect little angel in every way. (I wonder if that statement will ever come back to bite me in the butt...?)