Hair Bones and Doggies

One day last week, I woke up to this madness.

So what if my baby is one and I still squeeze his fat legs into the Bumbo seat? 

Here is another look...

Bad cell phone picture.

At our house, we call those hair bones.  Nate Doggy Dogg's hair bones.

The dog and his bones...

In all honesty, this has been a regular occurrence for a while.  He was starting to look like a blonde clown.  Or a little tiny baby Hippie.  I mean seriously...look at those hair bones!  Since Nathan is my only boy, I stood by the old-wives-tale that no baby should have a haircut before his one-year birthday.  I was literally counting down the days until it would be "acceptable" for a haircut. 

After his first birthday, I contacted a local barbershop, Shane's.  Shane is like family and if you look deep enough, he probably IS family.  My husband and his family are somehow connected.

We went the next morning and, bless his heart, this was my poor, shaggy Nathan while we waited:

Hello cutie.

Then my baby turned into a little man...right before my eyes.

Big cape.  Little Boy.

Daddy doing a bomb job of holding that lollipop.

That little tiny head.

My two men.

And now, Nathan is not a baby.  At least by looks, he appears to be a very small man.

A little plug for my local peeps...Shane did a phenomenal job on this cut.  It is perfect.  No gaps despite the fact that Nate was wiggly and basically fought the whole time.  The shop is kid-friendly and Shane did a great job of incorporating big-sister-Reese, too.  If your little man (or big man) needs a cut or shave, call Shane's. 

So that is the big news of the week.  

Plus one more thing.  I saw this dog today.  In real life.  

Quite possibly the coolest dog I've ever seen:

Those are sunglasses people.  Sunglasses with skull and bones.

Rock on little doggies.  Both of you.  Rock on.

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