Sam's Christmas Program

Sam is really blossoming in preschool, in my own humble opinion. His Mrs. Mills just seems to bring out the best in him. After his last day of school before the Christmas break, he asked "Do I get to go to school more?" This is the same kid who has always whined "I don't want to go to school." Look at the menorah he made at school. He really is learning so much. Maybe notsomuch about counting to 8 but whatever. He excitedly told me the q-tips were pretend fire.

The preschool Christmas program was very enjoyable. Mostly, again like at Thanksgiving, because Sam did everything he was supposed to do. It's far easier for a mom to watch when your kid is being good.
I will say, though, his rebel-streak hasn't totally disappeared. I can't imagine that will ever happen actually. So, right after this picture, as he's singing Feliz Navidad (so cute, he mis-sings "At the bottom of my heart", he used his maraca to fake-shave his underarms. I have no idea how that popped into his head, but it did and he was definitely the spectacle of the program. I don't have a still picture of that but I do have it on tape. Could it be $10,000 just waiting to come out of my camera? Mrs. Mills was laughing so hard and I was losing it, too. I love that she loves his "individuality" and never tries to squash it.


Sam was dressed kinda spiffy that day. Excuse the water spots all over the front of the shirt from whenever he was making out with the water fountain. He actually had a green sweater to wear over this dress shirt, but he thought he shouldn't wear the sweater since he had worn it to school before. He was trying to look special. And by the time he got finished with his white icing hands (before the program of course), he had his corduroys looking quite special, too. Like the back pocket hands?

And this is the little whippersnapper when it was time to leave. I was still so happy with him.
Since the sun was hitting his face funny there by the van, I had him come over to an evergreen to snap another handsome picture. And then he spotted it:

A super muddy slippery hill that was just calling his name. And apparently it was louder than his mama calling his name to git right back here right now, Samuel Allen Gill! No picture of the mud-caked shoes or the then-mud brown corduroys, but the van floor/car seat will tell you it happened.