Things I Never Thought I Would Say

Good job pooping!

Please don't lick the window, Alex.

Alex, please don't stick your cheese to the television.

We are nice to the kitty- we don't touch her butt.

Come here, let me smell your tush.

Best. Ever.

Most amazing thing evah.

This morning, I was walking with the boy, and he said, "See the flowers?"

I do. I do see the flowers!

"They nice."

Yes, they are, they're beautiful.

"They bootiful."   -- pause--  "YOU bootiful, Mommy,"

Sigh.  Melt.

Naked Boy

When I was in college, I would babysit for my nephews every time I was home for a visit. On one occasion, my nephew Aaron was just barely old enough to be able to dress and undress himself. I sent him upstairs to get into his pajamas. Not two minutes later, a butt naked 3-or4-year old came walking nonchalantly down the stairs. When he reached the bottom, he looked at me and said, "I am Naked Boy. Woo. Hoo."

I have never forgotten it... and I have never let him forget it, either. (He is now 13 and I'm sure he LOVES when I remind him of this particular night)

Last night, I was working late. When I got home, Daddy was running the bath for the Boy. I yelled out, "Hello!" to let them now I was home. Out of the bathroom, my blond haired little cherub came running, saying, "Mommy Mommy Mommy!"  He was wearing only a pair of jeans. He stopped dead in front of me, I picked him up, and he said, exuberantly, "I NAKED!"

It took me back to the moment when Aaron did almost the same thing. It took my breath away at how fast the years pass. How quickly my boy, too, will grow up.

I gave the Boy a kiss, snuggled my nose into his neck, and informed him, "Your BELLY is naked." :)

Birthday parties

It's that time of year again (already????).... that lovely, hectic, insane time in which I am planning the Boy's birthday party. I love putting together the party. I love having the right food, an adorable cake, fabulous and enlightened goody bags which cost almost nothing to put together....

I hate the invitations and thank-you notes. I spent forevah combing various discount stores for the perfect invitations, which I opened and began writing on BEFORE discovering that a different store had packages which included matching thank-you notes for very little more. Grr. Imagine my distress when I realized that while my son would have the perfect, Lightning McQueen invites, he would have to settle for generic, balloon-infested thank you notes. Which I would write, because he is, you know, two years old and all. All he would do with the notes would be to try and eat them, or "read" them to the cat.

The theme of the party was very easily chosen this year, as it was last year. Last year we were all about Sesame Street, whereas this year we have matured and moved on to the ever-popular "vehicles" theme, so chosen because the Boy can name literally every vehicle that passes us on the street. And woe to you if you do not acknowledge his naming; he will repeat it at increasing volume until you do. He's just excited; he loves the vehicles SO MUCH that he wants to share them with you.

My MIL is making the cake; as she does, she made our engagement party, bridal shower, wedding, and baby shower cakes as well as the Boy's 1st birthday party cake. I have told her to go crazy with the vehicle theme; one less thing I have to think about. Especially since the Boy (being WHOSE child???) is not especially fond of cake. Not sure where that aspect of his tastes comes from; he is just like me on the cheese front.

I think I am focusing on all this to avoid believing in the fact that MAH BAH-BEE IS TWOOOO.

Trying.... to keep blogging....

I've been trying so hard to do this blogging thing. How do you all find the time? When I get home from work, I am swept into a crazy maelstrom of dinner, errands, outside time (thank god the winter seems to be over), bath, bedtime, and an attempt at restoring my own sanity by reading YOUR blogs. Having an almost-two-year-old tornado who is learning words, letters, and numbers almost faster than I can teach them, who never sits still, who is always exploring and curious to explore even more, makes it almost impossible to sit and write about my own life. But I'm still trying!

Things are GOOD. The long, dreary, cold winter seems to be over (although in New York, we never lose sight of the fact that it can still snow even in April or May), and we are gearing up with sidewalk chalk, bubbles, and plastic lawn mower, wheelbarrow, and dump truck for a spring and summer full of outside time. I'm feeling optimistic- my husband just got a new job, making a bit more money- enough so we don't have to fret at the end of pay periods, float a rent check, worry so much in general. We're getting to a point where I can see an actual house in our future- sure, it's years away, but it's there, a glimmering possibility on the far horizon. We just signed our apartment lease for another year- it's small, but we love it, and we can make it work- at least until we add to our family in a year or two. Our lives are full of playdates and fun, friends and happiness. Keeping my fingers crossed that it stays that way!

Awesome.

The Boy is learning about what animals say. He's quite good at this, and has many animals and their accompanying noises, all present and accounted for.

Last night we successfully taught him that the walrus says, "goo goo ga joob."

I think we rock.

Recent Boy Meltdowns

Meltdown #1: In shoe store. Tried a pair of sandals on the Boy (in FEBRUARY, yes, we are wild and crazy). They were far too small, because somehow my child has gone from wearing a 5 to a 6.5 WIDE no less, and it being the middle of winter and all, they didn't have any in his freakishly large size. So we put them back. And he ssccccreeeeeeeeeeeamed. He wanted the SOOS, the SOOS! SOOS PEAS! And it didn't matter that we were getting him two fabulous and very manly pairs of toddler sneakers. He wanted the SOOS! I found myself repeatedly reassuring my boy child that we would indeed, come back for the sandals as soon as they had him in his size.

Meltdown #2: In our bathroom. There exists in our home a small stepstool from my childhood (so yeah, 30+ years old or whatever). It has a picture of some odd bearish creature riding, for some reason, in a train. On the stool is written, "Step up, I'm a stair, or sit down, I'm a chair." The Boy in his wisdom figured out that if this stool was placed in front of the bathroom sink, he could REACH the WATER and even hold his toothbrush IN the water oh my hell. So then it was bathtime, and we had the audacity to remove him from the stool to put him in the bath. A meltdown such as the bathroom has never seen. I basically threw some soap on him, splashed him with water, and hauled him out because GOOD LORD THE SCREAMING.

Not a meltdown, but funny all the same: Daily, in our house. The Boy sometimes needs to be given water in every single cup he owns, all at the same time. Then he drinks from them, one after the other.

This is definitely MY child.