Messy, Messy

James was the sweetest little baby.

He accepted his sisters' love and adoration.

James was willing to do whatever the girls wanted.

I should have known trouble was on the way when he learned to stand up in a moving wagon at the playground.

Nothing seemed to deter him from his destination.

He's always been fond of sweet treats, cold things, and anything that contains a straw.

There was a time James took four baths a day in the kitchen sink.

We thought it was funny that he couldn't walk, but he could roll watermelons around all over grandma's floor.  Who needs a ball when you've got a melon anyway?

As I mentioned before he bathed after every meal time.

Oh, then he discovered rocks, gravel, and sand.  Delicious, no?

One day he helped himself to the raising roll dough.  Sneaky little guy opened the back door so I thought he was outside for a few minutes, but then I heard the clatter.  James washed his hair in the dough as well as my entire stove and floor.

He's enjoys painting.  It doesn't matter the canvas.

And now he's big enough to really be a help in the kitchen.

One day I believe he'll be a bit neater, but for now, my house is chaos, and I'm really doing my best.

While visiting family this summer a relative asked, "Is James always messy, or do you just like taking pictures when he's messy?"  After two days she concluded, "James is always messy."

One of our little friends from summer daycare would constantly say, "James is a messy boy."  And I would certainly have to agree with that wise little man.  Some of the things I regret not having pictures of include the day he had a rootbeer can explode in the kitchen, the day he painted the table, chairs, all his clothes, and the carpet pumpkin orange (residual stains still remain) and the day he bleached the bathroom by himself. 

Oh, lovely little James, you are a messy boy. And we love you!