That is something that makes me very happy.
Unfortunately, it doesn't leave much to write about here. That is compounded by our complete photographic neglect this week. Looks like my weekly update ambition may be running thin. May be going every two weeks soon.
Now for the content.
Riley came down with whatever funk Joan and I had, so he's been snotty all week. He's getting tired of having his nose suctioned, but it's really helping him breathe. A 12 week old shouldn't snore, but that's basically what hes been doing.
On the dietary front, on Friday Joan tried shellfish, and he did not seem to have any negative reaction.
Saturday night she tried spaghetti sauce from Carrabbas, and, again he hasn't reacted.
She came across this website, http://www.godairyfree.org/Table/Dining-Out/Fast-Food-Restaurants/ which has links to the allergen pages of many fast food, and dine in, restaurants. You'd be surprised what things have unsuspected dairy.
We both suspect that he's really only got a problem with dairy, but you still have to be slow in reintroducing everything else, just in case.
Friday night, Riley got a visit from Cousin Caroline, who is infinitely more vocal than he is. He's still trying to make sounds, but they are few and far between.
Saturday morning we took Riley and Jimmy for an "adventure" out at the nature station. Once we're far enough back in the woods, we let Jimmy get some off leash time. The kid seemed to enjoy the new sights and sounds. That is, until he fell asleep. Hopefully we can do it more often when it cools down. By the time we got off the trails at 9 am, it was almost too hot to be out. ( especially since I wear jeans in lieu of being eaten up by chiggers for the next 2 weeks.)
Just a little while ago, Jennifer and Ryan stopped by to visit Riley. Jennifer is one of the select handful of people that we like from law school. They're expecting a boy in November. They've chosen the name Connor Patrick O'Neal, because they hate all things Irish. :)
And now for the part where I make fun of my kid and myself.
They say you can take the boy out of the trailer park, but you can't take the trailer park out of the boy. I'm starting to believe the saying is true, and that my DNA was somehow altered in the first 9 years of my life. I still like pig skins, Barq's Red Cream Soda, Slim Jims, and old country music. Unfortunately, I think I've passed these traits on to my son, who, at just 12 weeks old, is starting to grow a fine feathery mullet.
He just has that one, super thick strip across the back, and everything else is thin. We'll have to run him over to see Maurice for a little trim soon. That'll mean Maurice will have cut 4 generations of my family's hair. Not bad for a guy that is 73 and still on his feet 8 hours a day.
And just to make this post a little longer, and show that we're trying to return to normalcy with food, we're not having chicken this week. Instead we're going back to an old favorite, Fajitas from HEB, grilled at 750 degrees on the Egg.
And here's the usual pics
Pouty Face
Startled
and Cheesy Smile
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