Career Choices and New Words

It's been a funny week.

Tanner discovered "bird poop" and now points at every splotch he sees
and asks, "Ber poo, mama? Ber poo?". Our son... he knows a limited number of words
and for some reason one of them is "bird poop". Go figure. In the category of "maybe he'll be riding the short bus to school one day" he looks out the window of my car constantly and excitedly points to the bushes and trees and screams, "Moooooo!".

Jake, having exhausted his parents by resisting bedtime (and by resisting I mean screaming, hitting, yelling, complaining, crying, and acting- in short- like his hair was on fire) was up late with us one night- our strategy being that we were done fighting and he could go to bed when he wanted but we would be ignoring him completely. We were watching (this is embarssing but I'm going to admit it...) LA Ink, a reality show about tattooing. He was on the couch and wasn't much interested or paying attention, so I thought. Apparantly he was more intrigued than I thought as he announced a few minutes into the show, "Mom, I know what I want to be when I grow up. I want to be a tattoo artist!". His dad is very proud but I'm quite certain we are out of the running for the Parents of the Year Award.