Excuse me while I channel Arsenio...
You find "green" products everywhere. Green cleaning products, green cars, green toilet paper, green makeup brushes.
But I have to ask - are they truly green when they are WRAPPED IN PLASTIC?
Makeup brushes advertising how they are made from sustainable bamboo and they even come with a hemp travel bag. Bamboo makeup brushes laid on top of the hemp travel bag and then all wrapped in about 10 feet of plastic but its ok everyone - they are GREEN makeup brushes and some how buying them reduced your carbon foot print...
Seriously.
Things that make you go hmmmm....
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
In Your Face Elmo
Little Man was heading to day care the other morning. I did my ritual kiss, hug, blow kisses,say bye and say I love you. Then I said I love you again, very slowly and carefully.
"Ylub you"
A quick intake of breath and tears creeping to the edges of my eyes I turn to the living room:
"Take THAT Elmo! HUH! IN YOUR FACE! Try to one up mommy eh? I'll show you."
"Ylub you"
A quick intake of breath and tears creeping to the edges of my eyes I turn to the living room:
"Take THAT Elmo! HUH! IN YOUR FACE! Try to one up mommy eh? I'll show you."
Friday, October 23, 2009
I will survive
6:390 PM:
Me: Where are you
Husband: Van Dorn. About 10 minutes to Franconia and then from there (he's on the metro).
Me: Not going well as you can here (we are trying to talk over a banshee). See you when you get here.
This all translates into GET YOUR ASS HOME NOW!
Back up to 5:50 PM:
Dinner started out fine. Right up until I put Little Man in his booster and he made moves like he wanted to sit in my lap. Um, yeah, NO. I want to eat my dinner too. I ate my dinner. He screamed. I cleared my plate, emptied the dishwasher and reloaded. He screamed. Talking, distracting, you name it, I tried it.
Let's just say that it culminated into a full-throttle, launching body to floor, kicking feet and screaming at top of his lungs tantrum. I walked out of the room. He calmed. I came back. He resumed his tantrum. Repeat. I ended up at the front door watching for my husband and keeping an eye on Little Man out of the corner of my eye to make sure he didn't do anything foolish.
My neighbors were outside chatting. My husband walked up the front stairs. I held the door opened for him. "He's all yours" and out I went to hang with the neighbors.
They welcomed me with open arms. They were standing outside placing bets on how long it would take me to walk out of the house. They made me laugh. My husband dealt with my tiny banshee.
Banshee went to bed only having 2 sticks of cheese for dinner (I forgot to tell my husband he'd already had one stick and told him no on the 2nd until he ate dinner which helped in the above culmination).
I kicked myself. Slammed my head against the pavement. Questioned and 2nd guessed myself.
Then I had a beer. Listened some more to the nightmare stories from my neighbors (their kids are hitting the preteens) and began to joke about what a horrible mom I was (and apparently horrible wife too as my husband had no dinner ready for him when he got home).
I'll survive. Little Man will survive.
He will also wake up at 3 AM and demand breakfast - pancakes, cheese, bacon, cheese,sausage, biscuits, waffles, grapes, and of course, cheese.
I was very excited for Friday to arrive. Can't say I have the same warm and fuzzy about Saturday.
Oh Ms. Gaynor - give me strength!
Me: Where are you
Husband: Van Dorn. About 10 minutes to Franconia and then from there (he's on the metro).
Me: Not going well as you can here (we are trying to talk over a banshee). See you when you get here.
This all translates into GET YOUR ASS HOME NOW!
Back up to 5:50 PM:
Dinner started out fine. Right up until I put Little Man in his booster and he made moves like he wanted to sit in my lap. Um, yeah, NO. I want to eat my dinner too. I ate my dinner. He screamed. I cleared my plate, emptied the dishwasher and reloaded. He screamed. Talking, distracting, you name it, I tried it.
Let's just say that it culminated into a full-throttle, launching body to floor, kicking feet and screaming at top of his lungs tantrum. I walked out of the room. He calmed. I came back. He resumed his tantrum. Repeat. I ended up at the front door watching for my husband and keeping an eye on Little Man out of the corner of my eye to make sure he didn't do anything foolish.
My neighbors were outside chatting. My husband walked up the front stairs. I held the door opened for him. "He's all yours" and out I went to hang with the neighbors.
They welcomed me with open arms. They were standing outside placing bets on how long it would take me to walk out of the house. They made me laugh. My husband dealt with my tiny banshee.
Banshee went to bed only having 2 sticks of cheese for dinner (I forgot to tell my husband he'd already had one stick and told him no on the 2nd until he ate dinner which helped in the above culmination).
I kicked myself. Slammed my head against the pavement. Questioned and 2nd guessed myself.
Then I had a beer. Listened some more to the nightmare stories from my neighbors (their kids are hitting the preteens) and began to joke about what a horrible mom I was (and apparently horrible wife too as my husband had no dinner ready for him when he got home).
I'll survive. Little Man will survive.
He will also wake up at 3 AM and demand breakfast - pancakes, cheese, bacon, cheese,sausage, biscuits, waffles, grapes, and of course, cheese.
I was very excited for Friday to arrive. Can't say I have the same warm and fuzzy about Saturday.
Oh Ms. Gaynor - give me strength!
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Speed Bump
I am counting tonight a success. Meltdowns were minimal. He was allowed 2 crackers while I made dinner. When denied more, there was a minor meltdown that was easily handled. The major meltdown came when we went to sit for dinner. I still don't have a clue what triggered it. I'm leaving it to hunger and sleepiness. I ignored and eventually he started eating. 1. 5 servings later he was content (and again, mama finished dinner first. This could spoil a woman). Dessert was a cheese stick.
Bath time was my second success. First he took his pacifier when I told him no. He isn't allowed to have it until after his bath. Rather than force the issue, I caved... a little. I told him he could have it until his bath (had to strip the kid down. He doesn't bathe fully clothed although I have been tempted). He surprised me by putting the pacifier back where it belonged before leaving his room for the bathroom. He even ran back to put puppy in his place.
Then he gets in the bath.
And refuses to sit down complete with eye roll.
So I counted to three. Nothing. Ok. You're done. And out he came. He stood next to the tub looking slightly dumbfounded.
"Let's go. Gotta get a diaper and pjs on you".
Huh? Who is this woman? Holy Shit! I got a POD MOM! *shrug* Oh well. Let's go Pod.
I had such a successful evening do I really want to admit to the speed bump? It won't be winning me any Super Mom awards that for sure (like I was ever a contender).
I was so proud of how well things were going at dinner time, at one point in time I forgot to reset the timer. Yup - mama kinda, sorta burned dinner. Chicken, rice, and.... CHEESE all in a pan on the stove. Burnt cheese... yummy... *shiver*
Thankfully I caught it relatively early (ok, I was running from doing Ring Around the Rosy for the millionth time) and only lost a few spoonfuls (and I'm not talking a tea spoon here) and as you can see from above - dinner was still a success.
Bath time was my second success. First he took his pacifier when I told him no. He isn't allowed to have it until after his bath. Rather than force the issue, I caved... a little. I told him he could have it until his bath (had to strip the kid down. He doesn't bathe fully clothed although I have been tempted). He surprised me by putting the pacifier back where it belonged before leaving his room for the bathroom. He even ran back to put puppy in his place.
Then he gets in the bath.
And refuses to sit down complete with eye roll.
So I counted to three. Nothing. Ok. You're done. And out he came. He stood next to the tub looking slightly dumbfounded.
"Let's go. Gotta get a diaper and pjs on you".
Huh? Who is this woman? Holy Shit! I got a POD MOM! *shrug* Oh well. Let's go Pod.
I had such a successful evening do I really want to admit to the speed bump? It won't be winning me any Super Mom awards that for sure (like I was ever a contender).
I was so proud of how well things were going at dinner time, at one point in time I forgot to reset the timer. Yup - mama kinda, sorta burned dinner. Chicken, rice, and.... CHEESE all in a pan on the stove. Burnt cheese... yummy... *shiver*
Thankfully I caught it relatively early (ok, I was running from doing Ring Around the Rosy for the millionth time) and only lost a few spoonfuls (and I'm not talking a tea spoon here) and as you can see from above - dinner was still a success.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Beginner's Luck but I'm calling SUCCESS!
Little Man has enjoyed his addictions: puffs, stick cheese, cereal bars, and yogurt. Puffs weren't an issue. He got them after he ate and let's face it, he was too young to demand them. The stick cheese wasn't much of a problem. It was a snack or part of his overall meal, not his whole meal. Cereal bars were starting to become an issue. He would want 3 in a row and then not eat the next meal. I learned to distract after one and met with some success.
Yogurt is his latest addiction. The cereal bars seem to be waning a bit but the yogurt? We are talking the need for a hardcore intervention. He will eat 3 in a row if allowed at snack time and then 3 more for a meal. He may throw in a cereal bar for good measure and always a glass of milk.
Previous addictions never showed a sign of affecting his nutritional health but this latest addiction is straddling the line if not 10 yards past. He will have full blown meltdowns when told no. His screams are speeding up my hearing loss at an exponential rate.
So I spent an hour on the phone with the advice nurse at his Ped's office today. Hey, it had been awhile since she and I had talked. She was going through withdrawal (actually, she was looking for an escape from the endless, repetitive flu questions she was getting all week). I love this woman. She has been so incredibly patient with silly FTM me and her parenting philosophy is in line with my own. So she had no problem (gently) telling me that yes, I was screwing up.
See, this is why I love her. She is the only person with the balls to tell me that I am screwing up with my son, that I am making mistakes. That is exactly what I need to hear and honestly, what I wanted to hear. I needed a big ole kick in the ass and she gave it to me.
Guess what? My son is playing me. The boy is in complete and utter control when it comes to food. I know, shocking. You didn't see that one coming either did you? Floored the shit out of me, let me tell ya. (and if you can't read the dripping sarcasm in all of this...)
So I listened to the nurse's advice and decided to put it into play tonight. No snack before dinner and he's told what is on the table is what is for dinner. Let him meltdown. He'll learn.
We arrive home and our neighbors are outside playing (gorgeous Indian summer weather I bow to you). We go straight to play time. Little Man never sees the inside of the house. My neighbor watches him close to dinner time while I go in and hide the cereal bars, goldfish, smiley faces and all but one yogurt (he is now only allowed one a day). At 6 I take him in to make dinner. He goes to the fridge. I offer milk. He says no. He doesn't see any yogurt so he moves on to the cabinet. I open it. No snacks. Ask him if he'll help make dinner. Distraction #1 - success! We start cooking the sausage when I hit my first snag. There is a mini bag of pretzels on the counter. Damn it! I missed one! Little Man is struggling to open it. I tell him he can have a few and that's it because mommy is making dinner. He eats 3 and puts the bag down. SUCCESS! I'm trying not to whip out my pom poms to celebrate.
While the sausage is cooking, I take him into the living room to play. Distraction #2 - success. Damn I am good.
Check the sausage. Needs about 10 more minutes. Let's get the dining room ready for dinner. His booster seat is on the floor (story for another time). I have to put him down to attach it to the chair. Meltdown mode initiated.
I tell him he is fine and hook up the booster. Meltdown continuing. Nurse's voice enters my head "he'll melt down. Let him". I walk into the kitchen, ignoring him. I continue getting dinner ready. His screams would burst my ear drums if he was in the same room. After what felt like an eternity but I don't think was a full 10 minutes, he makes his way to the kitchen. By this time, I am 99% ready to put plates on the table. I half acknowledge him. He holds up his socks. I tell him as soon as I put him in his chair, I will put them on. Dinner is plated and ready to go. Pick the poor guy up and let him cry on my shoulder for a few seconds. He looks at me, pathetically, and I ask if he is ready for dinner.
"Dup"
Will you carry your milk for mommy"
"Dup"
Put food on table. Put milk on table. Put child in booster seat and socks on feet. Grab my plate. Walk back into the dining room and he is attacking his plate. He ate an entire sausage link and two servings of rice pilaf with veggies. We sat at the table, swayed to the music and talked in between bites. Ok, I talked in between bites. He still hasn't learned not to talk with his mouth full but one thing at a time here people.
He and I finish dinner at the same time. This is amazing. We had a GREAT meal together and he wasn't begging to get down 3 minutes into it and then hounding me to go play with him. He even lets me clean up the table.
While I am putting the last of the dishes in the dishwasher, he comes to drag me away. I figure it is time to play. Nope. Straight to the pantry door which I discovered, he can now open without assistance (time to reorganize that). He points to the strawberry applesauce and proceeds to down almost 2 of them.
I know tomorrow night could be the complete opposite. I know this is probably beginner's luck but allow me to celebrate my success tonight. For this one night, I am thrilled. Tomorrow I may lament but tonight the Sam I drink is in celebration. Tonight, I was in control.
Tune in tomorrow night for mama's slide back into subservient yogurt wench.
Yogurt is his latest addiction. The cereal bars seem to be waning a bit but the yogurt? We are talking the need for a hardcore intervention. He will eat 3 in a row if allowed at snack time and then 3 more for a meal. He may throw in a cereal bar for good measure and always a glass of milk.
Previous addictions never showed a sign of affecting his nutritional health but this latest addiction is straddling the line if not 10 yards past. He will have full blown meltdowns when told no. His screams are speeding up my hearing loss at an exponential rate.
So I spent an hour on the phone with the advice nurse at his Ped's office today. Hey, it had been awhile since she and I had talked. She was going through withdrawal (actually, she was looking for an escape from the endless, repetitive flu questions she was getting all week). I love this woman. She has been so incredibly patient with silly FTM me and her parenting philosophy is in line with my own. So she had no problem (gently) telling me that yes, I was screwing up.
See, this is why I love her. She is the only person with the balls to tell me that I am screwing up with my son, that I am making mistakes. That is exactly what I need to hear and honestly, what I wanted to hear. I needed a big ole kick in the ass and she gave it to me.
Guess what? My son is playing me. The boy is in complete and utter control when it comes to food. I know, shocking. You didn't see that one coming either did you? Floored the shit out of me, let me tell ya. (and if you can't read the dripping sarcasm in all of this...)
So I listened to the nurse's advice and decided to put it into play tonight. No snack before dinner and he's told what is on the table is what is for dinner. Let him meltdown. He'll learn.
We arrive home and our neighbors are outside playing (gorgeous Indian summer weather I bow to you). We go straight to play time. Little Man never sees the inside of the house. My neighbor watches him close to dinner time while I go in and hide the cereal bars, goldfish, smiley faces and all but one yogurt (he is now only allowed one a day). At 6 I take him in to make dinner. He goes to the fridge. I offer milk. He says no. He doesn't see any yogurt so he moves on to the cabinet. I open it. No snacks. Ask him if he'll help make dinner. Distraction #1 - success! We start cooking the sausage when I hit my first snag. There is a mini bag of pretzels on the counter. Damn it! I missed one! Little Man is struggling to open it. I tell him he can have a few and that's it because mommy is making dinner. He eats 3 and puts the bag down. SUCCESS! I'm trying not to whip out my pom poms to celebrate.
While the sausage is cooking, I take him into the living room to play. Distraction #2 - success. Damn I am good.
Check the sausage. Needs about 10 more minutes. Let's get the dining room ready for dinner. His booster seat is on the floor (story for another time). I have to put him down to attach it to the chair. Meltdown mode initiated.
I tell him he is fine and hook up the booster. Meltdown continuing. Nurse's voice enters my head "he'll melt down. Let him". I walk into the kitchen, ignoring him. I continue getting dinner ready. His screams would burst my ear drums if he was in the same room. After what felt like an eternity but I don't think was a full 10 minutes, he makes his way to the kitchen. By this time, I am 99% ready to put plates on the table. I half acknowledge him. He holds up his socks. I tell him as soon as I put him in his chair, I will put them on. Dinner is plated and ready to go. Pick the poor guy up and let him cry on my shoulder for a few seconds. He looks at me, pathetically, and I ask if he is ready for dinner.
"Dup"
Will you carry your milk for mommy"
"Dup"
Put food on table. Put milk on table. Put child in booster seat and socks on feet. Grab my plate. Walk back into the dining room and he is attacking his plate. He ate an entire sausage link and two servings of rice pilaf with veggies. We sat at the table, swayed to the music and talked in between bites. Ok, I talked in between bites. He still hasn't learned not to talk with his mouth full but one thing at a time here people.
He and I finish dinner at the same time. This is amazing. We had a GREAT meal together and he wasn't begging to get down 3 minutes into it and then hounding me to go play with him. He even lets me clean up the table.
While I am putting the last of the dishes in the dishwasher, he comes to drag me away. I figure it is time to play. Nope. Straight to the pantry door which I discovered, he can now open without assistance (time to reorganize that). He points to the strawberry applesauce and proceeds to down almost 2 of them.
I know tomorrow night could be the complete opposite. I know this is probably beginner's luck but allow me to celebrate my success tonight. For this one night, I am thrilled. Tomorrow I may lament but tonight the Sam I drink is in celebration. Tonight, I was in control.
Tune in tomorrow night for mama's slide back into subservient yogurt wench.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Love You
I've been trying to get Little Man to say "I Love You". He just kind of laughs at me.
He knows his Elmo doll talks and I made the mistake of turning it on for him today (Elmo annoys be almost as much as Barney does). I had to listen to "Elmo loves you" in that grating, makes-you-want-to-rip-your-ear-drums-out voice long enough to make me think NTOTB, The Backstreet Boys, and NSync were actually really good bands.
Then it happened. Little Man responded. "Love you".
To Elmo.
I'm now looking for the nearest wood chipper but will settle for a sledge hammer.
He knows his Elmo doll talks and I made the mistake of turning it on for him today (Elmo annoys be almost as much as Barney does). I had to listen to "Elmo loves you" in that grating, makes-you-want-to-rip-your-ear-drums-out voice long enough to make me think NTOTB, The Backstreet Boys, and NSync were actually really good bands.
Then it happened. Little Man responded. "Love you".
To Elmo.
I'm now looking for the nearest wood chipper but will settle for a sledge hammer.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Big Puppy
Everything is puppy now. Even his paci is puppy. Makes life a little confusing but I stopped correcting him. Why? Because is sounds eerily similar to Papi. As in Big Papi.
Me: Are you my Big Puppy?
Little Man: DUP!
Daddy made some comment about the Yanks (which I have conveniently forgotten).
Little Man: (pushing daddy away) DOP!
Me: You big Puppy?
Little Man: DUP!
Mama: 2 Daddy:0
How'd I get 2 you ask? Ask little man what his favorite color socks are. Go ahead. Ask him. I dare you.
Me: Are you my Big Puppy?
Little Man: DUP!
Daddy made some comment about the Yanks (which I have conveniently forgotten).
Little Man: (pushing daddy away) DOP!
Me: You big Puppy?
Little Man: DUP!
Mama: 2 Daddy:0
How'd I get 2 you ask? Ask little man what his favorite color socks are. Go ahead. Ask him. I dare you.
Friday, October 16, 2009
FINALLY!
I've been "Bah" for so long I am starting to forget any word a child may use for Mother. I had to stop myself at work this week from referring to myself as "Bah". His lovie is a blanket with a puppy head. We've called the blanket "puppy" from the day we got it. He's heard "mommy" a hell of a lot longer than he has "puppy" but guess which word he used first? Hell my mom gets "Amah" before I get "Mommy".
I came downstairs this morning. Little Man was sitting on daddy's lap with a puzzle. I expected the usual excited "BAH!". I didn't get it. I got, clear as day: "MOMMY!"
And I have a witness child!
I came downstairs this morning. Little Man was sitting on daddy's lap with a puzzle. I expected the usual excited "BAH!". I didn't get it. I got, clear as day: "MOMMY!"
And I have a witness child!
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Knick Knack Paddy Whack
We read to Little Man every night before bed. "They" say it helps calm them before they go to bed. "They" have never met my son.
His choice this evening was the nursery rhyme This Old Man. He was not content to have me read the book. No, I had to sing it. Give the kid some time. In a year or two he'll realize I am completely tone deaf and it is not a good idea to have me sing.
Daddy decided to play knick knack paddy whack on his knees as I read. Sorry - sing. Little Man jumped down and proceeded to knick knack paddy whack his knees, his thighs, the door, and daddy. Getting more rambunctious as he went.
"They" would say getting a child riled up that close to bed time is not a good idea. Good thing "they" are not raising my son. So he didn't curl up and go right so sleep when I laid him down but he hasn't piped up once yet. Hmm.... that may have been a snore I just heard.
"They" can keep their advice. This is a knick knack paddy whacking house (my Irish ancestors are so proud).
His choice this evening was the nursery rhyme This Old Man. He was not content to have me read the book. No, I had to sing it. Give the kid some time. In a year or two he'll realize I am completely tone deaf and it is not a good idea to have me sing.
Daddy decided to play knick knack paddy whack on his knees as I read. Sorry - sing. Little Man jumped down and proceeded to knick knack paddy whack his knees, his thighs, the door, and daddy. Getting more rambunctious as he went.
"They" would say getting a child riled up that close to bed time is not a good idea. Good thing "they" are not raising my son. So he didn't curl up and go right so sleep when I laid him down but he hasn't piped up once yet. Hmm.... that may have been a snore I just heard.
"They" can keep their advice. This is a knick knack paddy whacking house (my Irish ancestors are so proud).
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
You're Excused
I had several conversations this weekend with my mom and husband about the things kids repeat at the most inopportune time. We recanted stories of grandchildren, nieces, nephews, and friends' children and I laughed trying to figure out what Little Man would do to me. I figured I'd be called to the school in a few years trying to explain "Damn Skippy" as I've done a relatively good job of erasing certain other words from my Make a Sailor Proud language.
Little Man resorted to his usual demands.
"Up. Bah, UP!"
"Down Bah. SIT DOWN"
Excuse me?
"You scuse"
Little Man resorted to his usual demands.
"Up. Bah, UP!"
"Down Bah. SIT DOWN"
Excuse me?
"You scuse"
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
When winning isn't always what it seems
So eating Little Man's dinner for him worked tonight. He saw me eating so he decided to try and I got a "Mmm. YUM!" out of him right before he devoured.
My success was short-lived. It took no time for the begging, pleading, crying and screaming to ensue. All for a cereal bar. I held firm. I did not crack and for the 2nd night in a row, the child chose bed after not getting his way.
I'm afraid. I'm very, very afraid. This child's strategy is beyond me and I have that sinking feeling it is quickly turning into the 4th quarter 2 minute warning. I have the ball but the score is definitely NOT in my favor...
My success was short-lived. It took no time for the begging, pleading, crying and screaming to ensue. All for a cereal bar. I held firm. I did not crack and for the 2nd night in a row, the child chose bed after not getting his way.
I'm afraid. I'm very, very afraid. This child's strategy is beyond me and I have that sinking feeling it is quickly turning into the 4th quarter 2 minute warning. I have the ball but the score is definitely NOT in my favor...
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
How to turn the tables on your parents
Little Man said no to every dinner option tonight. He thought he could just have cereal bars for dinner. Mama had other ideas. After the refusals I distracted him with some play time. Once he was engrossed in his toys, I disappeared into the kitchen to make dinner. Once it was ready, he decided he was hungry. He had 3 bites of pasta and half his strawberry applesauce. Then requested to get down. He immediately heads to the cabinet with the cereal bars and goes into full meltdown mode when I say no.
Dad comes home and gets a less than warm welcome. Little Man crawls back into my lap but refuses to eat any more off his plate. He scrambles down and heads back to the kitchen. This time hoping to sucker daddy into giving him a cereal bar. This kid still thinks Dad is just as big of a sucker as Mom.
HA!
When that strategy doesn't work he HEADS TO THE STAIRS AND ASKS TO GO TO BED.
Another future strategy out the window. Bed with no dinner? No problem Mom.
Thanks kid.
Dad comes home and gets a less than warm welcome. Little Man crawls back into my lap but refuses to eat any more off his plate. He scrambles down and heads back to the kitchen. This time hoping to sucker daddy into giving him a cereal bar. This kid still thinks Dad is just as big of a sucker as Mom.
HA!
When that strategy doesn't work he HEADS TO THE STAIRS AND ASKS TO GO TO BED.
Another future strategy out the window. Bed with no dinner? No problem Mom.
Thanks kid.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Not Nice
"Sit. Sit down. Sit DOWN. SIT DOWN! Kneel. Go. Move. NO! I want. BAH BAH BAH!"
Ah, nothing like spending a weekend being ordered around by a toddler. I spent all weekend reminding him of the magic word so now it is SIT DOWN! peeeeeease? Complete with scrunched up face and smile which makes it hard to reprimand his tone.
So today we were playing catch (I was catching the ball with my hands. Little Man still catches the ball with his head and yes, it is a soft ball). I purposely bounced it over his head because it amuses me.
"DOP!"
Bounce it over his head again.
"DOP! Na Ni!" (not nice).
Pick up ball. Walk into living room. Return to hall way. Shake finger at me. "Na ni Bah!" Walk back into living room and refuse to play ball anymore.
I don't think my rolling on the floor laughing helped the situation...
Ah, nothing like spending a weekend being ordered around by a toddler. I spent all weekend reminding him of the magic word so now it is SIT DOWN! peeeeeease? Complete with scrunched up face and smile which makes it hard to reprimand his tone.
So today we were playing catch (I was catching the ball with my hands. Little Man still catches the ball with his head and yes, it is a soft ball). I purposely bounced it over his head because it amuses me.
"DOP!"
Bounce it over his head again.
"DOP! Na Ni!" (not nice).
Pick up ball. Walk into living room. Return to hall way. Shake finger at me. "Na ni Bah!" Walk back into living room and refuse to play ball anymore.
I don't think my rolling on the floor laughing helped the situation...
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Finally one for the Win column
"BAH!" "Bah. Bah."
He is saying "bar" as in cereal bar. Not to be confused with Bah which is still my name. Daddy or Da he says with no problem these days. Ma, mama, mom, mother or any other variation thereof is still lost on this child. Apparently only a Bostonian can tell the difference between the two.
As I reach for the Must Have Item of the Century, Little Man grabs the kitchen towels to practice his ribbon gymnastics (you could hear dad screaming all the way from NJ). My attempt to get him to replace the towels was laughable at best.
"Do you want the cereal bar?"
"Dup"
"You have to put the towels back first"
Nah, I'm gonna run into the living room and promptly drop them on the floor there instead.
"Pick up the towels please"
Nah, I'm gonna leave them there and run into the dining room now.
Hmmm, Bah just used all 3 names. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea.
Little Man returns to the living room and with a little more prompting, picks up the towels. I have him follow me into the kitchen and tell him to hang them up.
He hands them to me instead. Close enough in my mind so I hand him the cereal bar.
"Tank do"
WHOA! What was that?
"hehe"
Did you say THANK YOU? Without prompting?
"hehe"
Please and Thank You in one weekend?
Hug.
Yeah baby. I love you too. More than you know.
He is saying "bar" as in cereal bar. Not to be confused with Bah which is still my name. Daddy or Da he says with no problem these days. Ma, mama, mom, mother or any other variation thereof is still lost on this child. Apparently only a Bostonian can tell the difference between the two.
As I reach for the Must Have Item of the Century, Little Man grabs the kitchen towels to practice his ribbon gymnastics (you could hear dad screaming all the way from NJ). My attempt to get him to replace the towels was laughable at best.
"Do you want the cereal bar?"
"Dup"
"You have to put the towels back first"
Nah, I'm gonna run into the living room and promptly drop them on the floor there instead.
"Pick up the towels please"
Nah, I'm gonna leave them there and run into the dining room now.
Hmmm, Bah just used all 3 names. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea.
Little Man returns to the living room and with a little more prompting, picks up the towels. I have him follow me into the kitchen and tell him to hang them up.
He hands them to me instead. Close enough in my mind so I hand him the cereal bar.
"Tank do"
WHOA! What was that?
"hehe"
Did you say THANK YOU? Without prompting?
"hehe"
Please and Thank You in one weekend?
Hug.
Yeah baby. I love you too. More than you know.
Take 2
Take 2: Still in the kitchen, still cleaning while Little Man entertains himself with paper and crayon. What IS that sound? Oh shit. He's playing with crayons again and you left him unattended.
His canvas this time? The glass on the china cabinet.
Hey, at least he is staying with the season. His color of choice this week is still orange.
His canvas this time? The glass on the china cabinet.
Hey, at least he is staying with the season. His color of choice this week is still orange.
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