Today I gave Billy his first bubble bath. He was so thrilled he couldn't wait to get in. "Bubbles!"
Billy loves bubbles. LOVES.
Once he got in he refused to sit down in the tub. He crouched instead. The bubbles obscured the bottom of the tub, but really, he watched the tub fill with bubbles and water, so I don't know why he refused to sit.
My first instinct in a bubble bath is to splash around and pick up bubbles in my hands. Generally the normal thing, right? Billy? He picked up a huge handful of bubbles and... wham! Shoved them in his mouth. Oh, wait... those taste like yuck! He spat them out and then tried to wipe off his mouth, but his hand was covered in bubbles and he ended up with another mouthful of bubbles. Yuck! He spat them out and then tried to wipe them off with his bubble-covered hand again!
Mommy to the rescue! I wiped off his mouth and tossed some toys into the tub. When did bubbles look appetizing?
You would think that Billy had had enough of eating bubbles, right? Wrong! The next thing I know he grabbed a toy cup, filled it with water and bubbles and took a sip. It was disgusting so he spat it out immediately. Then he started giggling. That was pretty funny. Had enough bubbles in the mouth? No! He goes to drink it again!
Ok, Mommy intervention. Cups go away.
At that point he'd had enough. Not with eating bubbles, just with the whole bath in general. Time to get out and go cause toddler mayhem elsewhere!
Showing posts with label Mommy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mommy. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Saturday, April 7, 2012
April 6, 2012 ~ Gone Zooey
Well, I was going to write a really sober post about the importance of today. Good Friday, Passover, Opening Day, landmark dates in my own life...
But I'm going to skip the somber and go right for the trip to the zoo today. Who wants to talk about religion anyway? j/k
Grandpop and I took Billy to the zoo today. He hasn't been since he was a little thing and probably has no memory of it. They had a big Easter thing at the zoo today for kids, but we went after- Billy's too young for that stuff anyway.
First up... giraffes.
But I'm going to skip the somber and go right for the trip to the zoo today. Who wants to talk about religion anyway? j/k
Grandpop and I took Billy to the zoo today. He hasn't been since he was a little thing and probably has no memory of it. They had a big Easter thing at the zoo today for kids, but we went after- Billy's too young for that stuff anyway.
First up... giraffes.
This one was eating so we got a nice view of his butt. So we went over to look at the other giraffe. He was standing next to the window. When Billy saw him all of the color drained from his face. The walls of the enclosures don't go to the ceiling so the giraffes can lean over. It did. Oh, the terror! But no screaming. I mean, Mommy wasn't afraid and Grandpop wasn't afraid. I had forgotten how tall they are in person. Must seem giant-sized to a pint-sized guy.
Then it was off to the elephants. They were swinging their trunks and dancing around for food. Billy pointed to each one, and again, and again. Boy, were they cool.
But, when you go to the zoo it's not to see the big animals. Oh, no. Big, scary, cool. But not why you go to the zoo. Every Billy knows the real reason you go to the zoo is to see MONKEYS!!! Before we even got up to the monkey house Billy started pointing and saying, "ee, ee!" No, there weren't any monkeys outside. And I don't think he can read yet- wait, I hope he can't read yet. There was only one monkey in the monkey house. Everybody else had gone in to dinner. But Billy pointed and said, "ee, ee!" (Recall that to Billy all things are known by what sound they make.)
Ok, one monkey is boring. So we went over to the chimpanzee exhibit next to the monkey house. I know chimps aren't monkeys, but since Billy seems to think all things round are balls and all things with wheels are Beepbeeps, let's just go with the "hey, at least it's in the same family" concept. The chimps were running and playing right in front of the window. He watched a pair scale the fenced wall. He was thrilled. THRILLED! Monkeys. That's what zoos are for.
Next to the chimp exhibit the same metal fence was enclosing some bamboo. Billy decided to try out his "monkey" skills and scale the fence like the chimps. It didn't work out. No opposable big toes. I think I'm ok with this...
And totally on theme and totally by accident, here's a video from this morning:
Friday, March 30, 2012
March 29 ~ One More Hug
I dropped off Billy today at daycare, and just like every morning he didn't want to get down out of my arms. But then one of his friends had a toy he wanted and he hopped down to go get it. It was a little dog that belonged to another girl in the class. Suddenly, one of the kids started screaming for Billy to return it to its owner.
On a side note I have to say how weird it is for Billy to be in this class. All of the other students are vocal and can speak in full sentences. Some are fully potty trained. Billy is very talkative but we're still at "cackcack" for any bird and "beepbeep" for anything that has wheels. It's not like, "hey, Miss X, can I have some milk?" The best Billy could do is point and say "moo."
Anyways, now there's a kid screaming at Billy. So I lean down and I ask him, calmly, if he would return it to its owner. Mind you, the screaming kid was not the owner. The owner was preoccupied with a tea cup and couldn't care less. But Billy dutifully walked over to her and handed her the little dog and went to find another toy. The screaming stopped and everyone was happy. I didn't have to ask Billy twice and he didn't look to the adults for direction. He got it.
Then it was time for me to leave.
I tried to duck out the door, but he started crying (as usual) and ran to me. So I picked him up to give him his One More Hug. Head on my shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around my neck, and knees death-gripping my waist. He didn't want Mommy to go. But he knew it was his One More Hug, so when I put him down he didn't complain. Instead, he grabbed a toy and was off to the races.
When I was putting him to bed tonight he started screaming in his crib. That's actually unusual for him. So, I went back in to give him One More Hug. That's all he wanted. I held him for a few moments and then put him back to bed. He laid down without a sound and went straight to sleep.
Thank God for the One More Hug. It makes Billy a happy little boy.
On a side note I have to say how weird it is for Billy to be in this class. All of the other students are vocal and can speak in full sentences. Some are fully potty trained. Billy is very talkative but we're still at "cackcack" for any bird and "beepbeep" for anything that has wheels. It's not like, "hey, Miss X, can I have some milk?" The best Billy could do is point and say "moo."
Anyways, now there's a kid screaming at Billy. So I lean down and I ask him, calmly, if he would return it to its owner. Mind you, the screaming kid was not the owner. The owner was preoccupied with a tea cup and couldn't care less. But Billy dutifully walked over to her and handed her the little dog and went to find another toy. The screaming stopped and everyone was happy. I didn't have to ask Billy twice and he didn't look to the adults for direction. He got it.
Then it was time for me to leave.
I tried to duck out the door, but he started crying (as usual) and ran to me. So I picked him up to give him his One More Hug. Head on my shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around my neck, and knees death-gripping my waist. He didn't want Mommy to go. But he knew it was his One More Hug, so when I put him down he didn't complain. Instead, he grabbed a toy and was off to the races.
When I was putting him to bed tonight he started screaming in his crib. That's actually unusual for him. So, I went back in to give him One More Hug. That's all he wanted. I held him for a few moments and then put him back to bed. He laid down without a sound and went straight to sleep.
Thank God for the One More Hug. It makes Billy a happy little boy.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
March 27, 2012 ~ The Magic Healing Strip Returns
This morning Billy was very upset. He was rambling on about something that was bothering him. Only, I'm not fluent in Toddler, so I had no idea what he was saying. It could have been the meaning to life and I wouldn't know. That's ok... I don't think he can count to 42. (Don't get the reference? click here)
He started pulling up his pants legs. Oh, I get it! His booboos on his knees are bothering him. He's noticed that his Magic Healing Strips (band-aids) are missing. Of course, they've been gone for more than a day. I guess observant might not make the list of personality traits...
Ok. Back to Mommy General (that medical center in my kitchen). I plunk him down and give his knees a good look. The one knee is completely healed. There's no sign of the Big Bonk from a few days ago. Must be nice to be young and heal so fast, huh? The other one still has a big, old, ugly scab on it. If you're a boy it's a big, old, awesome, gorgeous scab.
Honestly, the scab is looking good and doesn't need any more treatment. But if something will make Billy feel better, then ok. I applied special Magic Healing Strips that look like crayons. He got a red crayon one. Ooooh. All better.
That's all he wanted. Can't get better without a Magic Healing Strip. :)
He started pulling up his pants legs. Oh, I get it! His booboos on his knees are bothering him. He's noticed that his Magic Healing Strips (band-aids) are missing. Of course, they've been gone for more than a day. I guess observant might not make the list of personality traits...
Ok. Back to Mommy General (that medical center in my kitchen). I plunk him down and give his knees a good look. The one knee is completely healed. There's no sign of the Big Bonk from a few days ago. Must be nice to be young and heal so fast, huh? The other one still has a big, old, ugly scab on it. If you're a boy it's a big, old, awesome, gorgeous scab.
Honestly, the scab is looking good and doesn't need any more treatment. But if something will make Billy feel better, then ok. I applied special Magic Healing Strips that look like crayons. He got a red crayon one. Ooooh. All better.
That's all he wanted. Can't get better without a Magic Healing Strip. :)
Monday, March 26, 2012
March 26, 2012 ~ You Know That Mom in the Grocery Store?
You know that mom in the grocery store?
You know the one. The one with the screeching child who refuses to behave? The one that everyone stares at and asks themselves, "can't she just control her kid?" The one with the look on her face that says she'd rather be having a triple root canal instead of taming toddler tantrums?
Yeah. That was me today.
Every other week I take Billy to the grocery store. So, it's not like this is a new thing. But his behavior today was brand new. Let's go through my quick trip that ended up taking an hour...
Would he sit in the cart? No. Bellowing at the top of his lungs- yep. Ok, so I carry him. We walk into the store and he starts patting his belly, meaning "I'm hungry." Awe. Some. The grocery store is kind of like "water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink."
Of course, first stop: veggies. He sees tomatoes. "Mommy, apple!" and reaches to get them. Then there's avocados. "Mommy, apple!" and reaches for those. Of course, I'm holding him and he's squirming to get down and get the "apple!" Onions, potatoes, artichokes, peaches and lettuce were also all renamed "apple." He tried to eat the grapes and strawberries when I put them in the cart. And, of course, he wanted the actual apples that I picked up, because he kept saying that he wanted apples. If fruit weren't priced by the pound I probably would have given him one. So then he decided that we needed romaine. Ok, not actually, but it was a good price so I let it stay in the cart. Then he decided that he wanted fresh green beans. He doesn't like green beans. Except today. In the store. Can't have them? Screaming, kicking, wailing on the sticky floor. Oh, yeah. Oh, and the potatoes? He actually tried to eat one raw. Yum!
Then I let him push the cart around to calm him down. He was very upset by the nice lady who had grapes in her cart. She was, apparently, not allowed to buy grapes. At least, according to Billy.
Down, down, down to the dairy aisle. Milk. No problem. Ok, except the twenty-five pound dead weight in my arms. Whatever. On to the yogurt. Can't live without Chobani. It's his must-have. In the words of Billy: uh, oh.
I started adding different flavors to the cart. All of a sudden he grabbed one and clung to it for dear life. "Mine!" I could almost hear him say. He wouldn't let go, but I figured that if it would placate him, who cares if he holds it?
Then it was down the freezer aisle for frozen peas. "Why can't I open the freezer doors?" tantrum. Oh, yeah. On the floor, writhing, wailing. "Gimme, gimme" tantrum right there. So. Friggin. Awesome. Pick up crazy alien monkey baby and haul him off to the mac'n'cheese aisle.
Ooh, the blue box. Oh yeah. He knows that box. "Just behave and I'll make you mac'n'cheese when we get home!" I plead. So, he starts grabbing blue boxes and chucking them into the cart. The more the merrier in his mind, right? He was adding them as fast as I could put them back on the shelves.
And cue the long line at the registers.
I'm back to holding him, which makes unloading the cart and paying a real feat. He still wouldn't let go of the yogurt. Not for his life. That was his. HIS.
So, I somehow get him out of the store, in the car, groceries in the car and the cart to the cart stand. I settle into the driver's seat and breath a sigh of relief. "Phew!" We made it out alive. (Because if the other patrons didn't kill us over the many screaming moments-not all listed here...)
It's then that I hear a weird sucking noise.
Ok. So imagine that you're a toddler. A hungry toddler. And you've been cuddling with a Chobani yogurt for the past half hour. What do you do? Clearly, you sink your teeth into the top of the container, puncturing a hole. And then what? Well, clearly you suck the yogurt out of your new handy, dandy hole in the lid.
And, ok. Have to take that away. OMG. Loss of yogurt brought on a new tirade. I believe I may have heard Billy's entire vocal range in the various screams that propelled us the whole way from the store to home.
So how was your day?
You know the one. The one with the screeching child who refuses to behave? The one that everyone stares at and asks themselves, "can't she just control her kid?" The one with the look on her face that says she'd rather be having a triple root canal instead of taming toddler tantrums?
Yeah. That was me today.
Every other week I take Billy to the grocery store. So, it's not like this is a new thing. But his behavior today was brand new. Let's go through my quick trip that ended up taking an hour...
Would he sit in the cart? No. Bellowing at the top of his lungs- yep. Ok, so I carry him. We walk into the store and he starts patting his belly, meaning "I'm hungry." Awe. Some. The grocery store is kind of like "water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink."
Of course, first stop: veggies. He sees tomatoes. "Mommy, apple!" and reaches to get them. Then there's avocados. "Mommy, apple!" and reaches for those. Of course, I'm holding him and he's squirming to get down and get the "apple!" Onions, potatoes, artichokes, peaches and lettuce were also all renamed "apple." He tried to eat the grapes and strawberries when I put them in the cart. And, of course, he wanted the actual apples that I picked up, because he kept saying that he wanted apples. If fruit weren't priced by the pound I probably would have given him one. So then he decided that we needed romaine. Ok, not actually, but it was a good price so I let it stay in the cart. Then he decided that he wanted fresh green beans. He doesn't like green beans. Except today. In the store. Can't have them? Screaming, kicking, wailing on the sticky floor. Oh, yeah. Oh, and the potatoes? He actually tried to eat one raw. Yum!
Then I let him push the cart around to calm him down. He was very upset by the nice lady who had grapes in her cart. She was, apparently, not allowed to buy grapes. At least, according to Billy.
Down, down, down to the dairy aisle. Milk. No problem. Ok, except the twenty-five pound dead weight in my arms. Whatever. On to the yogurt. Can't live without Chobani. It's his must-have. In the words of Billy: uh, oh.
I started adding different flavors to the cart. All of a sudden he grabbed one and clung to it for dear life. "Mine!" I could almost hear him say. He wouldn't let go, but I figured that if it would placate him, who cares if he holds it?
Then it was down the freezer aisle for frozen peas. "Why can't I open the freezer doors?" tantrum. Oh, yeah. On the floor, writhing, wailing. "Gimme, gimme" tantrum right there. So. Friggin. Awesome. Pick up crazy alien monkey baby and haul him off to the mac'n'cheese aisle.
Ooh, the blue box. Oh yeah. He knows that box. "Just behave and I'll make you mac'n'cheese when we get home!" I plead. So, he starts grabbing blue boxes and chucking them into the cart. The more the merrier in his mind, right? He was adding them as fast as I could put them back on the shelves.
And cue the long line at the registers.
I'm back to holding him, which makes unloading the cart and paying a real feat. He still wouldn't let go of the yogurt. Not for his life. That was his. HIS.
So, I somehow get him out of the store, in the car, groceries in the car and the cart to the cart stand. I settle into the driver's seat and breath a sigh of relief. "Phew!" We made it out alive. (Because if the other patrons didn't kill us over the many screaming moments-not all listed here...)
It's then that I hear a weird sucking noise.
Ok. So imagine that you're a toddler. A hungry toddler. And you've been cuddling with a Chobani yogurt for the past half hour. What do you do? Clearly, you sink your teeth into the top of the container, puncturing a hole. And then what? Well, clearly you suck the yogurt out of your new handy, dandy hole in the lid.
And, ok. Have to take that away. OMG. Loss of yogurt brought on a new tirade. I believe I may have heard Billy's entire vocal range in the various screams that propelled us the whole way from the store to home.
So how was your day?
Sunday, March 25, 2012
March 25, 2012 ~ Road Trip!
Today we headed north on a long road trip to meet a new member of the human race. It's about time! I've been waiting to meet the little cutie. I spent all morning packing the car with the Just-In-Case essentials and getting Billy ready for his long car ride. If I've learned anything from driving over the mountains with my little guy or heading to the beach, it's that long car rides equal screaming Billy. But, I came prepared.
We left right at naptime.
Zonk! He slept half of the way there. Unfortunately, Daddy had to take a call from a very close relative. Daddy was speaking very loud so that he could be heard on the speakerphone and that woke Billy up. So, We played Find The Binky the rest of the way there. Oh, you don't know that one? It's where Billy throws his binky in the car and then cries because he wants his "meemee". (Yes, my son came up with his own name for his binky. And yes, I'm pretty sure it's short for "give it to me now...me. Or something like that).
He was curious about this new little person that he got to meet. When the new Mommy held Lil Baby down so Billy could see he walked up and pointed to the little bundle of joy and said, "baby." He was very gentle, almost timid. He offered toys several times to the new Mom (presumably for the baby).
He vacillated between crying and cooing at the moon the whole way home, only falling asleep when we were minutes from our door. I'll have to ask him tomorrow, but I think he had a good day.
Oh, and PS: somebody LOVES Mythbusters. No, seriously, LOVES. "Caar!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Then the car goes boom and Billy laughs. Yep. Here the water goes boom. Guys, you have a new fan. :)
We left right at naptime.
Zonk! He slept half of the way there. Unfortunately, Daddy had to take a call from a very close relative. Daddy was speaking very loud so that he could be heard on the speakerphone and that woke Billy up. So, We played Find The Binky the rest of the way there. Oh, you don't know that one? It's where Billy throws his binky in the car and then cries because he wants his "meemee". (Yes, my son came up with his own name for his binky. And yes, I'm pretty sure it's short for "give it to me now...me. Or something like that).
He was curious about this new little person that he got to meet. When the new Mommy held Lil Baby down so Billy could see he walked up and pointed to the little bundle of joy and said, "baby." He was very gentle, almost timid. He offered toys several times to the new Mom (presumably for the baby).
On the ride home we didn't want to stop for food but Billy was starving. So we did the drive thru. I sat in the back with Billy to feed him one bite at a time. (No choking!) I handed him the cup of french fries, and like any grown American eating in the car, he immediately shoved the cup between his legs to hold it in place and began chowing down. Then I hand fed him his hamburger, my little prince, and his water. He vacillated between crying and cooing at the moon the whole way home, only falling asleep when we were minutes from our door. I'll have to ask him tomorrow, but I think he had a good day.
Oh, and PS: somebody LOVES Mythbusters. No, seriously, LOVES. "Caar!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Then the car goes boom and Billy laughs. Yep. Here the water goes boom. Guys, you have a new fan. :)
Friday, March 23, 2012
March 23, 2012 ~ That Bloody Sidewalk
This morning while getting in the car we saw one of our very nice neighbors walking his dogs. He has two very big dogs. He waved hello and kept on walking. Billy waved back, "hi!" It's his new word and he loves to say it when he meets people now.
So, we're standing there beside my car with Billy waving and the neighbor now down the street.
Suddenly, Billy took off down the driveway at a run. Now, our driveway is a pretty steep hill, but he had no problems handling the incline. Then he rounded the corner, still running, still no problem. Then he got to the sidewalk. You know, that nice, flat, easy to run down walkway. Ker-splat! Down he went. It was apparently so easy that it tripped him up.
I rushed over to him (actually, I had been running after him, but running down a steep incline in heels is no small feat). I scooped him up and he was bleeding from the knees. Poor guy.
Time to head to Mommy General, that oh-so-comforting medical center located conveniently in my kitchen. I sat him down in a kitchen chair so that I could get a good look at those knees in the light. He put his finger on the scrape and said weakly, "Mommy, uh-oh." I cleaned his wounds, applied the Magic Healing Stickers (band-aids) and a kiss to each knee to make it all better.
I don't think he was convinced.
The whole time in the car on the way to school he kept touching the Magic Healing Stickers and saying "uh-oh. Oh, no." I explained he had to leave the MHS alone and let them do their magic, but it was just too much for the Boy Who Didn't Cry.
But, he's all better now. And tomorrow, I've got a surprise for him. I have fancy Magic Healing Stickers that look like crayons. Ooooooooooooh.
So, just be warned. Those straight and even sideways are treacherous!
So, we're standing there beside my car with Billy waving and the neighbor now down the street.
Suddenly, Billy took off down the driveway at a run. Now, our driveway is a pretty steep hill, but he had no problems handling the incline. Then he rounded the corner, still running, still no problem. Then he got to the sidewalk. You know, that nice, flat, easy to run down walkway. Ker-splat! Down he went. It was apparently so easy that it tripped him up.
I rushed over to him (actually, I had been running after him, but running down a steep incline in heels is no small feat). I scooped him up and he was bleeding from the knees. Poor guy.
Time to head to Mommy General, that oh-so-comforting medical center located conveniently in my kitchen. I sat him down in a kitchen chair so that I could get a good look at those knees in the light. He put his finger on the scrape and said weakly, "Mommy, uh-oh." I cleaned his wounds, applied the Magic Healing Stickers (band-aids) and a kiss to each knee to make it all better.
I don't think he was convinced.
The whole time in the car on the way to school he kept touching the Magic Healing Stickers and saying "uh-oh. Oh, no." I explained he had to leave the MHS alone and let them do their magic, but it was just too much for the Boy Who Didn't Cry.
But, he's all better now. And tomorrow, I've got a surprise for him. I have fancy Magic Healing Stickers that look like crayons. Ooooooooooooh.
So, just be warned. Those straight and even sideways are treacherous!
Thursday, March 22, 2012
March 22, 2012 ~ The Magic Spoon
Perhaps you didn't know, but spoons have magical powers. Not just any old spoon, though. Plastic spoons. Brightly colored ones. Don't believe me? Ask Billy.
Every morning we walk into the kitchen and he shouts, "spoo!" and runs to open the "spoo drawer". He knows. The day can't start without a Magic Spoo. Most days, he requires two or even three Magic Spoos before breakfast.
This little plastic spoons aren't just spoons. They instill courage. They give Billy the power to take on a full flight of stairs, to endure a diaper change, to (egad!) go without a binky.
And spoons are so useful, too. Not just for eating. They're great for conducting music, for testing properties of toys with holes in them, for using as a drumstick on Buddy's bum. And they deliver oh-so-yummy-yogurt right into your mouth. Seriously, magic.
Still not convinced?
These Magic Spoos have the ability to quiet a screaming, kicking I'm-Being-A-Brat-Because-I'm-One-And-That's-What-I-Do-Boy. Yes. Instant calm. All from a spoon.
Now that's Magic.
Every morning we walk into the kitchen and he shouts, "spoo!" and runs to open the "spoo drawer". He knows. The day can't start without a Magic Spoo. Most days, he requires two or even three Magic Spoos before breakfast.
This little plastic spoons aren't just spoons. They instill courage. They give Billy the power to take on a full flight of stairs, to endure a diaper change, to (egad!) go without a binky.
And spoons are so useful, too. Not just for eating. They're great for conducting music, for testing properties of toys with holes in them, for using as a drumstick on Buddy's bum. And they deliver oh-so-yummy-yogurt right into your mouth. Seriously, magic.
Still not convinced?
These Magic Spoos have the ability to quiet a screaming, kicking I'm-Being-A-Brat-Because-I'm-One-And-That's-What-I-Do-Boy. Yes. Instant calm. All from a spoon.
Now that's Magic.
Monday, March 19, 2012
March 19, 2012 ~ The Tale of the Zebra Toy
Billy has an entire room full of toys, but he is fascinated with Buddy's toys. He knows a few of Buddy's favorites, since they are always laying around. But today Buddy dragged out an old toy that he rarely plays with. It's a little clunky for him, not his favorite and really it requires me to play with him.
The Zebra.
This is no ordinary zebra. This is a big, stuffed zebra with rope handles on both of its sides. It has stubby arms and legs, perfect for chewing. And a big fluffy nose, perfect for tearing at. All in all, it's a perfect tug-o-war toy with the handles for me to hold on to and the limbs and nose for Buddy to attack.
Well, Buddy just HAD to have Zebra today. He pulled it out and dropped it at my feet expectantly. So, Billy ran over and snatched it up. He hugged it and cuddled with the slobbery, chewed-upon dog toy. Yup.
"Give Buddy his toy."
"No!" He ran away cuddling the Zebra.
Buddy began barking furiously in his high-pitched,"I'm not getting what I want!" bark. You know, like Billy's high-pitched "I'm not getting what I want!" cry.
I took the toy from Billy and gave it to Buddy. This started Billy shrieking. You know, that aforementioned cry. Dilemma: Buddy gets his toy and Billy shrieks; Billy gets the toy and and Buddy barks like crazy. I'm suddenly reminded of the parable about cutting it in half...
So, Billy got the toy back. But Buddy had decided to play tug-o-war with Billy if he couldn't have the toy by himself. Buddy is totally on the Share Wagon. He tried to tug and tug and yank it free. But Billy missed that wagon. He clung to it tighter and shrieked louder.
"It's Buddy's toy. You have to let him have it."
Rinse. Repeat. Yeah, that went on for several minutes.
Then, in a huff over Buddy's barking and my refusal to come to his aid, Billy threw the Zebra with all of his might. Buddy bounded after it and brought it right back to Billy. Oh, wait... Buddy will play with me? This got Billy into throwing it a few times. But then he gave up on the throwing and just let Buddy have the toy.
Poor Buddy. His payment for getting his toy back was to be chased around the room in an endless game of tag. Billy would run up, "tag him" by slapping his back and cause Buddy to run away. Then Billy ran after him and repeated once Buddy was temporarily cornered. I had to separate them with a baby gate. Which brought on more shrieking from Billy until he saw his bouncy ball.
And that is the tale of the Zebra.
The Zebra.
This is no ordinary zebra. This is a big, stuffed zebra with rope handles on both of its sides. It has stubby arms and legs, perfect for chewing. And a big fluffy nose, perfect for tearing at. All in all, it's a perfect tug-o-war toy with the handles for me to hold on to and the limbs and nose for Buddy to attack.
Well, Buddy just HAD to have Zebra today. He pulled it out and dropped it at my feet expectantly. So, Billy ran over and snatched it up. He hugged it and cuddled with the slobbery, chewed-upon dog toy. Yup.
"Give Buddy his toy."
"No!" He ran away cuddling the Zebra.
Buddy began barking furiously in his high-pitched,"I'm not getting what I want!" bark. You know, like Billy's high-pitched "I'm not getting what I want!" cry.
I took the toy from Billy and gave it to Buddy. This started Billy shrieking. You know, that aforementioned cry. Dilemma: Buddy gets his toy and Billy shrieks; Billy gets the toy and and Buddy barks like crazy. I'm suddenly reminded of the parable about cutting it in half...
So, Billy got the toy back. But Buddy had decided to play tug-o-war with Billy if he couldn't have the toy by himself. Buddy is totally on the Share Wagon. He tried to tug and tug and yank it free. But Billy missed that wagon. He clung to it tighter and shrieked louder.
"It's Buddy's toy. You have to let him have it."
Rinse. Repeat. Yeah, that went on for several minutes.
Then, in a huff over Buddy's barking and my refusal to come to his aid, Billy threw the Zebra with all of his might. Buddy bounded after it and brought it right back to Billy. Oh, wait... Buddy will play with me? This got Billy into throwing it a few times. But then he gave up on the throwing and just let Buddy have the toy.
Poor Buddy. His payment for getting his toy back was to be chased around the room in an endless game of tag. Billy would run up, "tag him" by slapping his back and cause Buddy to run away. Then Billy ran after him and repeated once Buddy was temporarily cornered. I had to separate them with a baby gate. Which brought on more shrieking from Billy until he saw his bouncy ball.
And that is the tale of the Zebra.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
March 16, 2012 ~ Chicken Catchacookie
Imagine you're one. Now imagine that you're presented with dinner. You have a chicken tender, french fries, apple slices, carrots, cheerios (because no meal is complete without cheerios), a graham cracker (because you screamed for cacas) and an oreo cookie. What do you do?
Clearly, the first thing to do is to shove as many fries in your mouth as you think will fit, which turns out to be more than actually do fit. There's the whole nearly choking on fries and then spitting them into the bib pocket. No biggie.
Ooh. Oreos. Okay. The oreo wins. Clearly, what's better than dessert first? Well, almost first? Let's shove the whole thing in our mouth. Hrm. I think it must need something. But what? I know! Chicken! I bet you thought I would say graham cracker. Nope, chicken!
Then, it's time to make a science experiment out of the graham cracker and some water. Uh, oh! Mush. Yuck. Lots of tears until Mommy brings another graham cracker. Yay!
Oops. Out of oreo to mix with chicken. Oh well. Mommy, all done!
Clearly, the first thing to do is to shove as many fries in your mouth as you think will fit, which turns out to be more than actually do fit. There's the whole nearly choking on fries and then spitting them into the bib pocket. No biggie.
Ooh. Oreos. Okay. The oreo wins. Clearly, what's better than dessert first? Well, almost first? Let's shove the whole thing in our mouth. Hrm. I think it must need something. But what? I know! Chicken! I bet you thought I would say graham cracker. Nope, chicken!
Then, it's time to make a science experiment out of the graham cracker and some water. Uh, oh! Mush. Yuck. Lots of tears until Mommy brings another graham cracker. Yay!
Oops. Out of oreo to mix with chicken. Oh well. Mommy, all done!
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
March 12, 2012 ~ A Big Bump
While I was making dinner tonight Billy was playing in the kitchen. We now have a drawer beneath the wall over that houses all of our tupperware. Billy has decided to love pulling all of the pieces out and then putting them all back in the drawer. It's great fun. I would prefer if the drawer would stay neat and the items clean, but well, he can't break them. Better than playing with the pyrex or juggling knives, right?
Why is it that kids always hurt themselves as soon as you turn your back? It's like Murphy's Law, only this is kid specific. I think I'm going to call it Billy's Law: Billy will attempt feats of near certain death any time my attention is distracted.
So, anyway Billy was playing with the tupperware and I was measuring out ingredients. Pause. Moment of silence followed by screaming. Yep. It's the silent part when you know you're in for it. Quiet equals trouble.
What happened? Contrary to popular belief, I don't actually have eyes in the back of my head. So, I didn't see it happen. But I'm pretty sure that he slammed his hand in the drawer and in the process of trying to remove the owie, slammed his head into the oven. At least we weren't at the old house with the old oven- he would have been burned on his face. (Of course, knowing that oven was a safety hazard I never let Billy near it).
He got an owie on his hand and his forehead. He cried and cried until he suddenly saw a new toy and ran over to it, completely forgetting his pain. The only remnant was the red splotchy mark where I iced his head.
In other news he is now official a Two. They have moved him up at daycare. But, Billy... you're still a One to me.
Why is it that kids always hurt themselves as soon as you turn your back? It's like Murphy's Law, only this is kid specific. I think I'm going to call it Billy's Law: Billy will attempt feats of near certain death any time my attention is distracted.
So, anyway Billy was playing with the tupperware and I was measuring out ingredients. Pause. Moment of silence followed by screaming. Yep. It's the silent part when you know you're in for it. Quiet equals trouble.
What happened? Contrary to popular belief, I don't actually have eyes in the back of my head. So, I didn't see it happen. But I'm pretty sure that he slammed his hand in the drawer and in the process of trying to remove the owie, slammed his head into the oven. At least we weren't at the old house with the old oven- he would have been burned on his face. (Of course, knowing that oven was a safety hazard I never let Billy near it).
He got an owie on his hand and his forehead. He cried and cried until he suddenly saw a new toy and ran over to it, completely forgetting his pain. The only remnant was the red splotchy mark where I iced his head.
In other news he is now official a Two. They have moved him up at daycare. But, Billy... you're still a One to me.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
March 1, 2012 ~ The Language Leap
Today Billy took some major strides in language.
This morning he called Tigger by name. I didn't even know that he knew Tigger's name. But he said, "Mommy, Tig!" and pointed at the fluffy little orange thing.
Then, getting out of the car he pointed and said, "Choo! Choo!" The train was zooming past. I've heard him say this before, but always prompted.
After dinner he walked over to the counter, pointed up, and made the hand sign for "more." I have been trying to teach him this but have never seen him actually do it.
I can't explain, but today he made a mental leap. He is picking up more vocabulary words and making connections between one object and another. It might seem small, but the jump between prompting and verbalizing without prompting is a big leap in my mind.
Of course, I can't prove any of this. If I prompt him to say something in front of others he shuts up like a clam. No, really...I swear. He talks, he talks!
This morning he called Tigger by name. I didn't even know that he knew Tigger's name. But he said, "Mommy, Tig!" and pointed at the fluffy little orange thing.
Then, getting out of the car he pointed and said, "Choo! Choo!" The train was zooming past. I've heard him say this before, but always prompted.
After dinner he walked over to the counter, pointed up, and made the hand sign for "more." I have been trying to teach him this but have never seen him actually do it.
I can't explain, but today he made a mental leap. He is picking up more vocabulary words and making connections between one object and another. It might seem small, but the jump between prompting and verbalizing without prompting is a big leap in my mind.
Of course, I can't prove any of this. If I prompt him to say something in front of others he shuts up like a clam. No, really...I swear. He talks, he talks!
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
January 28, 2012 ~ What Are We Doing Tonight, Brain?
Billy is on his way to taking over the world.
This morning of his on volition he climbed up into the desk chair. Climbed up by himself, a feat only accomplished in that past two days. The swinging and twirling of the desk chair make it difficult to climb into.
Anyway, he wanted to play on the computer. He started pressing buttons until he was opening windows and typing things into them. He didn't know what he was doing, but to the untrained observer he looked like a computer genius. He was able to pull up the "Find" window and search through files using keywords. He even got himself into the program files.
And by himself, I mean that I provided no assistance at all. He even figured out how to maneuver the mouse by himself and use it to open things. Don't believe me?
He's so proud of himself. Yep. He's my little computer genius.
"So, what are we doing tonight, Brain?"
"The same thing we do every night, Pinky. Try to take over the world!"
(Don't get the reference? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Animaniacs)
Oh, yeah. And it's kind of a big day... we bought a house. WE BOUGHT A HOUSE!
This morning of his on volition he climbed up into the desk chair. Climbed up by himself, a feat only accomplished in that past two days. The swinging and twirling of the desk chair make it difficult to climb into.
Anyway, he wanted to play on the computer. He started pressing buttons until he was opening windows and typing things into them. He didn't know what he was doing, but to the untrained observer he looked like a computer genius. He was able to pull up the "Find" window and search through files using keywords. He even got himself into the program files.
And by himself, I mean that I provided no assistance at all. He even figured out how to maneuver the mouse by himself and use it to open things. Don't believe me?
He's so proud of himself. Yep. He's my little computer genius.
"So, what are we doing tonight, Brain?"
"The same thing we do every night, Pinky. Try to take over the world!"
(Don't get the reference? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Animaniacs)
Oh, yeah. And it's kind of a big day... we bought a house. WE BOUGHT A HOUSE!
Monday, February 27, 2012
February 27, 2012 ~ The Potato Strikes Again!
If you are a personal friend of mine then you have probably heard the tale of the Golden Potato...you may have even seen the Golden Potato. If you have no idea what I'm talking about then let me summarize: Daddy+potato+alcohol+2008=HILARITY.
Anyway, yesterday Billy decided he wanted to play with a potato. I couldn't get him to leave it alone. It was a little white potato. Well, he decided it was a ball. He bounced it. He rolled it. He tried to get Buddy to play fetch with it. Yep. Potatoes are like balls.
Well, I've been trying to teach Billy to clean up his toys. Most of the time he puts his toys in the right bin and then refuses to let go and pulls them right back out and continues to play. It's a work in progress.
So, today, when I went to fry up that little white potato for Billy to eat tomorrow, do you know what I found? A tennis ball. Buddy's tennis ball. In the potato bin. Apparently, if a potato is like a ball, then a ball belongs with the potatoes. Yes, a Buddy toy full of slobber in with my food. Ooh, yum!
And now for your daily moment of cute...
Buddy got in trouble today for eating half of Billy's cracker right out of his hand. Billy was telling me a tale in toddlerspeak and not watching his cracker-filled hand. Buddy waited patiently for the moment to strike. Billy looked up in abject horror as half of his cracker vanished down the gullet of the cuddly beast. Then he went right back to babbling incessantly.
Buddy got some serious punishment for taking food from a baby.
After a few minutes I thought it was high time for Buddy to be forgiven.
"Billy, go tell Buddy that you love him. Go on," I pushed. I wasn't expecting anything to happen.
But just then, cuteness occurred. For weeks now, Billy has a new habit. If you ask him for a kiss, he will stick out his neck and present his cheek- aka, 'you may give me a kiss, my loyal subject'. It's very cute and quite humorous. Well, he walked over to Buddy and presented his cheek. Buddy's response? He walked away. So, Billy followed him and continued to present his cheek. Buddy relented and was treated to having Billy gently rub his cheek all over Buddy's cheek and Buddy's side.
Don't ever doubt. They are BFFs.
Anyway, yesterday Billy decided he wanted to play with a potato. I couldn't get him to leave it alone. It was a little white potato. Well, he decided it was a ball. He bounced it. He rolled it. He tried to get Buddy to play fetch with it. Yep. Potatoes are like balls.
Well, I've been trying to teach Billy to clean up his toys. Most of the time he puts his toys in the right bin and then refuses to let go and pulls them right back out and continues to play. It's a work in progress.
So, today, when I went to fry up that little white potato for Billy to eat tomorrow, do you know what I found? A tennis ball. Buddy's tennis ball. In the potato bin. Apparently, if a potato is like a ball, then a ball belongs with the potatoes. Yes, a Buddy toy full of slobber in with my food. Ooh, yum!
And now for your daily moment of cute...
Buddy got in trouble today for eating half of Billy's cracker right out of his hand. Billy was telling me a tale in toddlerspeak and not watching his cracker-filled hand. Buddy waited patiently for the moment to strike. Billy looked up in abject horror as half of his cracker vanished down the gullet of the cuddly beast. Then he went right back to babbling incessantly.
Buddy got some serious punishment for taking food from a baby.
After a few minutes I thought it was high time for Buddy to be forgiven.
"Billy, go tell Buddy that you love him. Go on," I pushed. I wasn't expecting anything to happen.
But just then, cuteness occurred. For weeks now, Billy has a new habit. If you ask him for a kiss, he will stick out his neck and present his cheek- aka, 'you may give me a kiss, my loyal subject'. It's very cute and quite humorous. Well, he walked over to Buddy and presented his cheek. Buddy's response? He walked away. So, Billy followed him and continued to present his cheek. Buddy relented and was treated to having Billy gently rub his cheek all over Buddy's cheek and Buddy's side.
Don't ever doubt. They are BFFs.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
February 26, 2012 ~ 3 Parenting Fails and a Parenting Wail
One Sunday, three FAILS.
1. Billy is learning his food words. Every meal he points to each item on his plate and I tell him what it is. Then he repeats the word for me the best that he can. This morning he had Cheerios, apples, bread and milk. He repeated each one. But five minutes later he picked up the soda bread and said (in perfect English with perfect pronunciation) "apple". No, "bread." Then at dinner he had some regular bread. He picked it up, showed it to Daddy and said (in perfect English with perfect pronunciation)"apple!" FAIL.
2. While playing with his toys he picked up his football and shoved it in his mouth. It was really cute until he put it down, walked over to a Buddy ball and shoved that in his mouth. We're still working on separation of toys...apparently, not very well. FAIL.
3. Billy was playing with something he knew he wasn't supposed to pick up because it was too heavy/dangerous/notmadeforbabies. He suddenly dropped it, possibly on his foot, and yelled (in perfect English with perfect pronunciation) "f*ck!" FAIL.
And a parenting wail...
This evening I decided to take a shower to have a fifteen minute break after a long day with my Crankypants (teething again, argh!). I climbed in to the nice steamy water for my relaxing break for the day. Just then, I heard the patter, patter, patter of little feet. Billy came bounding into the bathroom, followed by Daddy, followed by Buddy. Billy started slapping the glass, so I played our tapping game with him (I tap with my hand and leave it there and then he repeats). Then I kindly asked Daddy to make everyone leave so I could have some privacy. A minute later I heard the patter, patter, patter of little feet.
"Honey, he only wants Mommy, so we're going to play in the bathroom."
There I am, just trying to shampoo my hair like any normal woman with a Daddy and a baby and a dog there for company. Then I see Billy waving his binky over the open toilet. Dear God, please don't let him drop his binky in the toilet! But, I was saved by poop! Yes, Billy decided just then to let fly and Daddy had to rush him out for a diaper change. Phew! The binky was saved, I knew I had 5 minutes to myself and Daddy got stuck with a stinkeroo. But, of course, as soon as he had a new diaper, I had an audience again.
And that was my nice, relaxing, 15 minute time to myself. Yup.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
The Sunday Post- Sing About Poo
Today I'll just leave you with Billy's two favorite diaper changing songs:
I'm a Stinky Baby
(I'm A Little Teapot)
I'm a stinky baby
yes I am
better change me fast as you can
better change me quick as can be
'cause I pooped and I'm stinky
Super Pooper
(Abba's Super Trooper)
Super pooper
wipes are going to find me
but I won't be blue
it's not the thing to do
'cause in my diaper there is poo
I'm a Stinky Baby
(I'm A Little Teapot)
I'm a stinky baby
yes I am
better change me fast as you can
better change me quick as can be
'cause I pooped and I'm stinky
Super Pooper
(Abba's Super Trooper)
Super pooper
wipes are going to find me
but I won't be blue
it's not the thing to do
'cause in my diaper there is poo
Friday, February 24, 2012
February 24, 2012 ~ Drink Your Peas
At dinner Billy had peas and some other things but he didn't want to eat any of it. Nope. Forget it. Instead he started screaming for my glass of water.
"Mommy, meh! Meh!" pointing wildly at the water.
Ok, ok, I gave him the water. But it was immediately obvious that the glass was in serious danger of losing its life. So, I got a plastic mug out of the cabinet and filled it with water. Oh, boy. That mug could have been made of gold.
First he spilled water all down his front. Then he drank from it. But let's not stop there.
All good food and drink must inevitably become a science experiment. Why eat your peas when you can drink them? He started throwing peas into his water and tried to drink it. Then he screamed when I took the cup away and replaced it with pea-free water.
Clearly, he wanted his pea water.
"Mommy, meh! Meh!" pointing wildly at the water.
Ok, ok, I gave him the water. But it was immediately obvious that the glass was in serious danger of losing its life. So, I got a plastic mug out of the cabinet and filled it with water. Oh, boy. That mug could have been made of gold.
First he spilled water all down his front. Then he drank from it. But let's not stop there.
All good food and drink must inevitably become a science experiment. Why eat your peas when you can drink them? He started throwing peas into his water and tried to drink it. Then he screamed when I took the cup away and replaced it with pea-free water.
Clearly, he wanted his pea water.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
February 23, 2011 ~ A Lenten Appeal (Don't Do That!)
Taking a toddler to Church and expecting them to behave is a lot like jumping in to a tank of hungry sharks and expecting them not to bite. Sometimes I think the sharks might be easier to handle.
I made the (unwise) decision to take Billy to Ash Wednesday Mass. Because I work, I took him to the evening Mass, which is also the most crowded. Billy, purse, diaper bag, Car Kitty and myself grabbed a pew in the back. Immediately, he wanted into the diaper bag to see what goodies I had brought him.
Now, thinking ahead, I had removed all of the usual toys from the bag. I usually keep rattles, noise makers and other plastic items that would either sing or make loud noises when banged against the wooden pews. I replaced them with soft toys, hoping that new toys would keep him occupied and that soft toys meant he could bang them against the pew to his heart's content.
I unzipped the bag and on top was his parrot puppet.
"Caca!" he happily screamed in the middle of solemn Mass. In hindsight, naming the parrot Crackers may not have been the best choice.
This would be when I started to sink down in the pew.
Then we pulled out a book. He tried to get the attention of the girl in front of us by throwing the book at her. Ok, time to move.
I picked up Billy, my purse, the diaper bag, Car Kitty and Crackers and went to stand in the side aisle. I rocked Billy on my hip.
"Look!" he points to the stained glass.
"Shh! Billy." I appealed to him to be quiet.
"Uh, oh. Mommy." He points to the prayer candles. Then he wags his finger. "No! No!"
The choir then started singing so I walked him up to see them. Unfortunately, they were out of sight behind the altar for the Mass (which is not standard) so we couldn't see them. Instead I took him in to a side chapel, hoping to keep his attention. He looked around and then pointed up and said, "ah!"
This was followed by an "ah, ah, ah" echo resonating in the chapel. He looked at me stunned.
"Aah! AAH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" He screamed in delight.
Oh. My. God. I sprinted to the back of the Church and out the doors.
In the lobby were several parents with toddlers and all of the short people were talking loudly in toddler-speak. Well, we officially banished ourselves to the lobby with the other parent rejects, unable to keep their happy kids quiet.
I think we'll just pray at home from now on.
I made the (unwise) decision to take Billy to Ash Wednesday Mass. Because I work, I took him to the evening Mass, which is also the most crowded. Billy, purse, diaper bag, Car Kitty and myself grabbed a pew in the back. Immediately, he wanted into the diaper bag to see what goodies I had brought him.
Now, thinking ahead, I had removed all of the usual toys from the bag. I usually keep rattles, noise makers and other plastic items that would either sing or make loud noises when banged against the wooden pews. I replaced them with soft toys, hoping that new toys would keep him occupied and that soft toys meant he could bang them against the pew to his heart's content.
I unzipped the bag and on top was his parrot puppet.
"Caca!" he happily screamed in the middle of solemn Mass. In hindsight, naming the parrot Crackers may not have been the best choice.
This would be when I started to sink down in the pew.
Then we pulled out a book. He tried to get the attention of the girl in front of us by throwing the book at her. Ok, time to move.
I picked up Billy, my purse, the diaper bag, Car Kitty and Crackers and went to stand in the side aisle. I rocked Billy on my hip.
"Look!" he points to the stained glass.
"Shh! Billy." I appealed to him to be quiet.
"Uh, oh. Mommy." He points to the prayer candles. Then he wags his finger. "No! No!"
The choir then started singing so I walked him up to see them. Unfortunately, they were out of sight behind the altar for the Mass (which is not standard) so we couldn't see them. Instead I took him in to a side chapel, hoping to keep his attention. He looked around and then pointed up and said, "ah!"
This was followed by an "ah, ah, ah" echo resonating in the chapel. He looked at me stunned.
"Aah! AAH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" He screamed in delight.
Oh. My. God. I sprinted to the back of the Church and out the doors.
In the lobby were several parents with toddlers and all of the short people were talking loudly in toddler-speak. Well, we officially banished ourselves to the lobby with the other parent rejects, unable to keep their happy kids quiet.
I think we'll just pray at home from now on.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
February 21, 2012 ~ Adventures In Grandpop Babysitting
Tonight was another late night for me at work so Grandpop volunteered to babysit. I got everything ready for him. I wrote a list with the schedule on the board. I prepared enough healthy food for the Russian army for both he and Billy. I had everything for bedtime laid out and ready. Grandpop only had to watch Billy for an hour before bedtime, so I expected it to go easily.
How did it go?
~ Grandpop was initiated with an Epic Poo.
~ Cheese and crackers appear to be the main course from dinner...
~ Billy went to bed over an hour past his bedtime.
But the gentlemen had fun together despite having to pry Billy from me on the way out the door. I guess every kid deserves a little spoiling from their grandpop.
How did it go?
~ Grandpop was initiated with an Epic Poo.
~ Cheese and crackers appear to be the main course from dinner...
~ Billy went to bed over an hour past his bedtime.
But the gentlemen had fun together despite having to pry Billy from me on the way out the door. I guess every kid deserves a little spoiling from their grandpop.
Monday, February 20, 2012
February 20, 2012 ~ How To Lose An Intellectual Debate To A One-Year-Old
For lunch today I gave Billy some grapes with his science experiment, *ahem* I mean peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
He held one up to me and asked, "ball?"
"No honey that's a grape."
"Ball," he said, matter-of-factly and shoved it in his mouth with a smile.
"No. It's a grape. Can you say 'grape'? Grah-ape."
He held up another one. "Bah-all."
"Ok, it looks like a ball. But it's a grape."
He picked up another one and bounced it off of his tray. "Ball!" I don't think I realized that grapes bounce. Apparently, they do.
"Yes, it bounces like a ball, but it's a grape."
He grabbed another one and rolled it across his tray. "Mommy, ball. Buh-all!"
"Yes, it rolls like a ball and is round like a ball and bounces like a ball. But it's a grape."
At this point he had shoved all of them in his mouth (at once) and there were no more on his plate.
"Do you want more grapes?"
"NoNo. Mo(re) ball!"
"Ok, fine. More ball." And that's how he got another bowl of ripe, juicy, red, fruity balls that I like to call 'grapes'.
He held one up to me and asked, "ball?"
"No honey that's a grape."
"Ball," he said, matter-of-factly and shoved it in his mouth with a smile.
"No. It's a grape. Can you say 'grape'? Grah-ape."
He held up another one. "Bah-all."
"Ok, it looks like a ball. But it's a grape."
He picked up another one and bounced it off of his tray. "Ball!" I don't think I realized that grapes bounce. Apparently, they do.
"Yes, it bounces like a ball, but it's a grape."
He grabbed another one and rolled it across his tray. "Mommy, ball. Buh-all!"
"Yes, it rolls like a ball and is round like a ball and bounces like a ball. But it's a grape."
At this point he had shoved all of them in his mouth (at once) and there were no more on his plate.
"Do you want more grapes?"
"NoNo. Mo(re) ball!"
"Ok, fine. More ball." And that's how he got another bowl of ripe, juicy, red, fruity balls that I like to call 'grapes'.
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