Happy Birthday Rock!!

For Rock's second week birthday we took him to the pediatrician to get poked and prodded. I'm not a mind reader, but I'm pretty sure he didn't like the check-up. He was doing so well until they made him lie buck-naked on a cold table while they weighed and measured him. And if that wasn't enough they put drops in his eyes at the same time. Poor guy, but at least they didn't have to check his lungs. The good news is that he has gained two whole pounds since he left the hospital, the bad news is that he still can't use the potty on his own. According to their charts he is amazingly average. These first pics are of Rock wearing the Seahawks onesie that uncle Nick sent him. And no, he's not crying, he's asking "What time is it?" and then he waits for me to say "It's game time!" Then he poops all over the place.

DeAndra dressed him up in his baseball uniform, and so she couldn't help but take lots of pics of him ready to hit the field. Alot of teams have shown interest, but most are reluctant to commit to anything until they see that he can use the toilet. They aren't too keen on having to deal with his "presents" that he'd leave on the infield.

He has a pretty classy hair style right now. It's only coming in on top and in the back, so he looks like a mini blonde haired Billy Raye Cyrus with a mullet and spiked hair. Classy.