I haven't written a blog post about nothing but me and the boy in awhile, so here goes.
Yesterday I met a new friend at one of my favorite photo locations: Gilcrease Museum. We both packed picnic lunches for us and our kids, and she brought along her mom and two girls. Since her youngest is about to celebrate her first birthday, I took portraits of the girls while we were exploring nature.
After the picnic and photo session, my friend and her family left, but Wyatt and I stuck around for a little while to do a little mini session of our own.
Here he is, having climbed atop a giant boulder. He was pretty proud of himself, and kept yelling, "take my picture, Mommy!!!" Any of you with an eye for detail, please know that his closet is brimming with a plethora of t-shirt choices. And he wears them all. Somehow, this is always the one he's wearing when I decide to take his pictures. It's his picture-taking shirt, I guess.
Okay, I have to admit I forced this pose on him...at first he was planking with his arms behind him, pretending to be a whale. I pulled his little hands up under his chin and begged for a smile. I took a few shots of his "dead in the eyes" look...you know, the one most photog moms get when they ask their kids to look at the camera and smile. When I could see he was going to be a turd, I started telling corny jokes. Got him.
Can you believe this pose? LOL! What am I going to do with this kid?
This is pure Wyatt. A real, unprompted smile. That little glimmer of wonder in his eyes that I always see, but rarely catch on camera. Plus, you can see hints of the freckles that are starting to pop up on his face. Oh my, I love this.
Gosh. Here he is being all grown up again. I wish he would stop that and go back to being my tiny baby boy. How have five years gone by? He is a real person! This is not happening!
He tripped on the deck of the gazebo and got a whopper of a splinter in the tip of his pointer finger. If you have never seen Wyatt when he's injured, I should tell you: the splinter remains in his finger. I have only been able to look at it from 10 feet away with my arms behind my back while swearing that I won't even imagine touching it. Wyatt does not like to be physically comforted when he gets hurt, nor does he allow you to tend to his wounds without a psychotic episode. A lot of festerin' goes on in this house.
Being serious. Way too serious. Moments after this photo, we found a little ring neck snake, and it was all I could do to keep him from chasing it down and taking it home with us. Later in the day, when I asked him what his favorite part of the day was, he excitedly reported finding the snake as the best moment. Wanna know what my favorite part of the day was...? Every second of it.