Sherlock

For some reason I love Sherlock Holmes. I was thinking about it the other day, and I realized there is absolutely nothing to love about his character. No matter what show you're watching (or book you're reading if you do that sort of thing), he's self-centered, impulsive, tactless, and just down right mean. He's basically no bueno.

I decided the reason I love Sherlock Holmes has very little to do with him at all. I love his character only as it is made softer by the one person who could ever penetrate his hard shell: his BFF, Watson. 

Watson brings out the good in Sherlock. He (or she if you're an Elementary fan) possesses an incredible ability to cause Sherlock to think twice about his actions. And Sherlock doesn't think twice about anything. Watson shows us that Holmes does have a heart, does care about being good and does care about helping others. I love Holmes because of his deep-down goodness brought out by Watson. None of us would like Sherlock without Watson.

I just get teary every time a Sherlock character does something subtle to right his wrong after a good lecture from Watson, which he pretended not to hear or care about.

The thing about it is, I feel like we all have our own Watson. It just so happens that mine is actually named Watson. He softens my sharp corners, highlights my good side, continues to love me in spite of my insensitivities. He cools my jets when I'm going crazy, and together we solve all sorts of crime (okay not really crime). I am a much better person because of him.

Here's to wishing my dear Watson a very happy birthday. You're my everything babe, and we're gonna make it. 

Gas Forever

Baby boy is a little ornery these days. His gas is still going strong. His new thing lately is to grunt and push really hard while he's nursing. Sometimes he just goes right ahead and bites down while he's at it. OUCH! He doesn't even have teeth yet, so, that should be fun. I remember his first gassy night very well. He was 10 days old and my dear Watson had just left for Maine. He grunted all night long. I'm hoping his system gets worked out sometime in his life. He may have a hard time making friends if he grunts red-faced and cries every time he has to toot or poop. Can you imagine him at 16? Or 30? Aye aye aye. 

Pretty much no two days are alike. I feel like that's enough to make anyone crazy. I guess the trick is not to have expectations. Thank your lucky stars if it's a good day, but don't expect it to continue tomorrow. On the other hand, one bad day doesn't mean every day to follow will be the same for the rest of your life and all eternity. Not that I've ever felt that way, I'm just sayin. 

I should mention that he is an excellent sleeper at night. He sleeps 8 or 9 hours straight almost every night. 

And I should also mention that sometimes he turns his head, looks me in the eyes, smiles, and gives me a sweet kiss. Seriously? By the time my melted heart retains it's usual shape, I've forgotten everything that was hard that day. He's my pal. I love having him in my life. 

This was us after my half marathon last month. That was super fun, and I even caught up to and beat one of the girls I had my eye on to beat the whole time.

He has been loving the swing and slide at the park lately.

Chunky legs!

My dear Watson picked him up in his blanket like this and carried him around. You can tell by his face what he thought about that.

This is kind of like that face I was describing earlier. So sweet.

My crazy kid!