Whitman boys.

We took some long weekends. We worked long hours, both at our day jobs, and at our main job, parenting The Gus as best we can figure out how. We didn’t take a ton of pictures. I don’t really know why.

Cue the theme to “The Courtship of Eddie’s Father”:

People let me tell you ’bout my best friend,
He’s a warm hearted person who’ll love me till the end.
People let me tell you bout my best friend,
He’s a one boy cuddly toy, my up, my down, my pride and joy.

The Gus is now at an age when he can repeat anything we ask. TDW picked me up from work last week, The Gus in the backseat, and she said, “Gus, what’s daddy?”

“AWESOME!” he replied.

That, of course, is yet another in the list of “Things that make it all worthwhile.”

Here’s a shot of The Gus with his infant cousin Ian:

And here, with my bike in the background:

The Gus remains small for his age, but at our pediatrician’s recommendation we took him to the endocrinologist. “He’s just a little small,” said the endocrinologist. “That’s what we thought,” we said. So he’s small, but he talks up a storm (though his enunciation is atrocious) and he is psyching himself up for potty-training. His favorite book, of course, is called Once Upon a Potty. I can recite it cover to cover.

He is full of preferences these days, those preferences being primarily for the organic knockoff of Ritz crackers that cost three times as much as Ritz, and “jus agua,” a mixture of water and a dash of juice. He also likes his pajama top with the spaceship on it — he’s good at saying “spaceship,” so I guess it’s all about the motivation.

Here’s The Gus going down a slide at least two different wrong ways at once (he was undamaged):

And the vanity shot, of the two of us: