Two nights ago, Wyatt told me he didn't like his hair. He wanted his hair to stick up in the front, "like his friend Ethan." So I told him we would go get a haircut the next day. Witness the transformation:
(Taken about a week prior, after pretending to dress the poor dog up for Halloween...I tried to get a picture in the barber shop beforehand but he was so excited he wouldn't stay still!)
He looks like such a big boy now. Part of me was sad about him looking so much older, but another, bigger part was proud of him for deciding how he wants to look for himself. Every time I look at him I am struck by how fast he is growing up. It is bittersweet, but I never want to stifle his spirit. I love that about him.