Friday, September 28, 2012

September 27, 2012 ~ Daddy Mow

After dinner (and apple pie!) Billy wanted to watch Daddy mow. Most importantly, he instructed Daddy TO mow. Well, the grass needed it.

So, we went out onto the porch at dusk to watch Daddy mow the back yard. Billy sat in his own seat to watch. Then he started with the commentary.

"Daddy mow [by] garden."
"Uh, oh Daddy. No tree."
"Daddy mow under swing."
"Daddy, fast!"

Okay, he doesn't know sports yet, and his verbal skills are only so-so, but in my head I heard him play-calling Daddy mowing.

"And around the bend, he's coming down the home stretch! Whoops! He's gotten the mower stuck on the tree root, but wow! Look at the maneuvering. And now he's off and back in the game. Just a few more yards. He's going, he's going and it's DONE!"

Well, that's what it sounded like in toddler-speak anyway.

Thursday, September 27, 2012

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

September 25, 2012 ~ What do you want for your birthday?

There's some big event coming up at the end of the week. What could that be?

I've been trying to explain to Billy about his birthday. It's not an easy concept to explain. It's not a color. It doesn't make a noise. You can't see it or hear it or touch it. It's not a food. How do you explain a birthday?

Well, he knows the numbers one and two. So I started there. Today you're one. This weekend you will be two. Blank stare.

Okay. For your birthday you get balloons and cake and people bring you presents. It's a big day. Blank stare.

What do you want for your birthday? Quizzical stare.

Do you want cake? "No. No cake."

Do you want a new book? "No. No new book."

Do you want balloons? "Balloons? No. No balloons."

Do you want a new toy? "No, no toy."

Well, what do you want?

He thinks a moment and then shouts, "apple pie!"

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

September 24, 2012 ~ Big Boy Shopper

Billy declares he is a big boy.

We walked into Sam's today and first he had to stop and look at pumpkins. By the way, according to Billy they are "ornge". Not orange.

He went and fetched a cart by himself, but wanted to push it instead of getting in. However, first he insisted all of his toys be situated across the child seat in the cart. He had the lady that checks membership cards in hysterics.

Then it was off to get "chicken! Mommy, chicken!" Most of the time when we go we come home with a roasted chicken and he knows where they are.

Heading to the back of the store we passed all of the fall decorations on end caps. He had to stop to tell me how ugly they were. Specifically, "Mommy, no touch. Trash. P-u! Uggy." After letting everyone know a couple of times how he felt about them it was back to pushing the cart as fast as he could.

When we got back to the chickens, none were out of the oven yet, so we shopped in the bakery area. He went after every box of cookies and wanted to add them to the cart. He picked up the raisin bread and chucked it in. Then he saw the cakes. There was nearly a cake-trastrophy in the store.

Then the chickens were ready.

Billy pointed to the one he wanted, but remembered that they are HOT. "Mommy, do it." So, I put the roast chicken in the cart. And boy was it hot. fresh from the oven.

Then it was time to get some cheese. Billy wanted every block of specialty cheese he could find and started loading the cart with them. A Sam's Club employee had to come over and help me redo the display since he was so enthusiastic about buying cheese. We settled on two blocks. Not twenty.

Well, I brought gold fish because Billy cannot go in this store without getting hungry. So the next bit of shopping he sat in the cart for his snack. The gold fish ran out all too quickly and he wanted back out of the cart.

By this time we were down by the toys. He immediately spotted his Eee-Eee (oversized sock money that is bigger than he is). We bought it last week and it's his new favorite thing. Also, his birthday present. He wanted another one, but really... how many oversized sock monkeys do you need?

The point of being down the toy aisle was to pick up another birthday gift for him. His very own Billy-sized camping chair. In blue. He picked it up in its little case by himself and put it on the cart.

Then it was time for a Mommy present. Bulbs! No, not for a lamp. For the garden. Billy wanted to put every pack of bulbs on the bottom of the cart. We settled on two.

Then it was off to check out. He help get everything of the bottom of the cart and hand it to me so I could put it up for the register. He was my "big" little helper.

When we got home he wanted cheese and his chair. I'm not shocked at all.

Monday, September 24, 2012

September 23, 2012 ~ Oh, Crap!

There was a big party this weekend and Billy slept in the same room with us for it. He had a great time.

But the morning after the party I woke up to hear him whining weakly. It wasn't worth asking Daddy to go deal even though it was Daddy's morning. (We take turns sleeping in). But Daddy had a different party Friday night as well, and after two nights of revelry was dead to the world. So, I cracked an eye open.

Billy was standing in his Go Crib as far into the corner he could go and whining pathetically.

"What's the matter?" I asked. It was a rough morning. I wanted to go back to sleep (fat chance).

"Poop," he cried.

"Go back to sleep, there's no poop." Well, I wasn't actually over there looking or smelling, but he no longer poops at night.

"Poop."

So, I propped up on an elbow to see him better. He was backed into that corner as far as he would go. He saw me looking at him and pointed into the crib, "poop!"

Oh, crap.

I got up to check. Poop.

Mad dash to the kitchen for plastic bags and back to the room again to deal with the mess. Poor guy. He'd had a back end blowout. Fortunately, his jammy pants took the brunt of the blow, but the crib didn't escape unharmed, and the same for his blankets.

He was not a happy camper.

We got all cleaned up and then went outside to watch Swim Across America.

"Under water!" he shouted at them. Yes, they were swimming with their heads down.

He was also thrilled with our cousin's sailboat in all its glory with dress flags flying. He was sure they were kites. I couldn't convince him they were flags.

And so, we had a big weekend and one tuckered little "pooped out" man.