48, 49, and 50 Weeks

Arlo is 50 weeks and 2 days old today, and he's a walking tornado.

Food and Tupperware are so much cooler than toys.

 

He's been a real walker for a couple weeks now, basically ditching the crawling thing altogether—unless he decides he really needs to haul ass for some reason. He thinks he crawls faster than he walks, so if something terrifies him (Like Scooter charging into the room like a maniac. Poor kid's been plowed over one too many times, I guess.), he drops to his hands and knees and crawl-runs to his mama. In case you didn't know, I can fix anything.

 

Also of note:  the hair. I was tired of my beautiful boy looking feral.

I swear I didn't just rescue this poor child from a cave somewhere.

Last Friday, we took him to a photo studio to have some photos taken for his birthday party invitations.

This isn't for the invitations, but look at that adorable pose! (Too bad the photographer used that weird pencil chair, or too bad I didn't have the balls to tell her it didn't make sense.)

 

Every two minutes, we had to stop the shoot so I could hairspray his wild mop into submission, or it would cover his entire face. Danny and I decided that enough was enough, and what better time to cut Arlo's crazy hair than right after it was documented via photos? 

Check out that mullet!

 

We took him to Snip-Its, a kiddie salon, and I'm pretty sure he was the most well-behaved baby the stylist has ever worked with. Dude didn't move a muscle. I'd like to say he was so amazing because he's the best kid in the world, but in reality, he was so calm because he was fixated on Charlie, the half-boy, half-demon who was getting his hair cut across the aisle from Arlo. Charlie made high-pitched animal noises for a half-hour straight, while his dad held the left side of his head and his mom held the right side—and the poor stylist tried to trim his hair without accidentally lopping off his arm. I should also note that Charlie was so worked up that he turned a very concerning shade of red. He was quite the spectacle, but I'm grateful for the distraction he caused.

  

Holy shit, Charlie.

I wasn't in love with Arlo's haircut at first.

 

Too grown-up and "perfect."

 

But once I realized it wasn't actually going to look as prim and proper as it did when we left the salon, I was okay.

 

See? Still crazy.

I can't believe how different he looks without his luscious locks, and it took a couple days for me to be able to look at him without being caught off guard, but his new 'do has kind of grown on me.