Jude is hilarious. He's figured out what to do when he's getting his picture taken, and within seconds will bust out his biggest, cheesiest smile (see below).
He's going to rip my house to shreds.
He's finally learning how to give real kisses.
He calls himself "baby" and sometimes a version of "Juju" that probably only we would recognize.
He's an OK eater. Harry asked me last week what he eats. Hmmm -- the regulars are Greek yogurt, hummus, hot dogs, milk, green juice, grapes, strawberries, eggs, peas, and a few bites of whatever we're eating for dinner. He does not usually care much about dinner. Anyway, I'm trying to curb the snacking, period, to make meals more complete.
I think Jude was a little weirded out today that Jeff and I were both home but we didn't really go anywhere till 3pm because of General Conference. Afterward we went to walk a path that runs along the San Clemente beach. Beautiful. Pictures may surface another day. We thoroughly exhausted him. We saw a few dogs and he lit up every time.
He used to, if he got hurt, want me to hold him but would be mad at me like it was my fault he tripped and bonked his head. That phase is over and he seems to have realized that that isn't the way I roll.
He wants to do everything by himself and do everything the way we do it. He seems to think the high chair is condescending these days. Brushing teeth was a battle until he grabbed my toothbrush off the counter one morning; now that he uses an adult toothbrush he's much more amenable to the idea.
Tonight he bonked his head on the kitchen island with quite a bit of force. It was tragic and he's got a little bump. He was, of course, wailing and then some music came on in the background. Still horribly upset, through his wails he started dancing in my arms. Music is his drug.
That's all I can think of for now. Peace.