Noah is His Father's Son...

Noah is showing off his band-aid that he got when they drew blood at his pre-op appointment. I made Chris come because anyone who knows me knows that I don't really do well with blood or needles. Although I do much better now there will always be the story of how I kicked a doctor (it must run in the family my sister kicked his nurse/wife the same day) and the story of when I passed out at the clinic on my mission, both involving needles. But we won't get into that. This is really about how Noah is his father's son. I think I was subconsciously waiting for some yelling or crying to come from the back but there was nary a peep. When they returned Chris reported that he didn't even cry. No flinching, pulling away, whining or crying. He sat calmly on Chris' lap and watched them draw his blood. When he was finished he got a Nascar band aid over the gauze, a Lofty the crane sticker (just visible on his shirt) and a couple of suckers from mom and dad for doing so well.

Posting about this picture is also supposed to be cathartic for me. That's what Chris told me. A few days ago we cut Noah's hair. Chris was all for the tennis ball look because, ultimately, he is his mother's son too. He gets so hot, so quickly if the weather is even remotely warm (just like me). Hot equals miserable and cranky (just like me). And it takes him awhile to cool down (just like me). Anyway, the cut he ended up with I hate! It seems to be a little bit longer than a tennis ball, but really it does him no favors in the style department. It is mostly my fault since I was doing the clipping my only defense being that I having been learning haircutting on Noah as he grows. My only consolation (beyond the fact that it really does help him stay cooler) is that same reason I chose to try cutting Noah's hair in the first place-he is young and doesn't care what he looks like!