She is SO CLOSE to rolling over in both directions, but she gets her shoulder stuck under herself and can’t quite get the oomph to finish the maneuver.
She seems to like it. I feel a little weird with her strapped into the front of the land yaght stroller, like a floppy little baby figurehead. She just sort of dangles from the harness, but appears to be really comfy and is much more content that way. I must say it’s improved my “driving”, since the first thing to hit the door frame/clothes rack/pedestrian is the wee one’s feet.
Payne got a dress up box for his birthday, so we’re going to play a little game!
Guess that costume!
Silver gum drop? Nope, my brother in law already threw that one out and was corrected.
Robot hula dancer? Newp.
Unfortunate but employed corner flyer distributor? Uh uh.
He’s a “wocket sip”, of course.
This, my friends, according to the manufacturers is a “Tyrannosaurus”.
(References Vertebrate Paleontology textbook)
Um…nice wings Mr. Rex. It’s amazing no one ever noticed those (or the horns) amongst your various fossil specimens.
Fortunately Payne can’t read, so he’s just stuck to being a “Gwagon”.
Payne: “Where’s Daddy?”
Me: ” I don’t know. Can you find him?”
Payne: (brings finger up to chin thoughtfully) “Hmmm. Maybe d’eres supping wong.”
(Payne blows his nose into his hands and then rubs his hands all over his face)
Me: “I have never once in my life seen another human being do that Payne.”
Payne: “No guys! My do it all duh time!”
Today was educational in a way.
A good single friend of mine came into town for the weekend and I really wanted to see her. We planned to meet for lunch on Saturday, but she didn’t get into town until 12:30. I was all “Twelve thirty! People eat lunch that late?!”. Heh heh. I couldn’t do that with the kiddos, so she came by in the afternoon instead and we chatted a bit, but the kids napped through a good bit of her visit.
On Sunday I let her know to tell me if she had any lunch plans. By 11:00 (soooo late. Ha!) I decided she must not and I took Payne to McDonald’s. She called while I was at McDonald’s about lunch, so I scarfed my food and drove to meet her at a gigantic local mall where I could at least visit with her during her own lunch.
I remembered halfway there that I didn’t have the stroller. Hmmm. Instead, I strapped Genevieve into the Baby Bjorn (a very hip look) and trekked through the mall as Payne alternately jogged alarmingly ahead of me or lagged behind in my blind spot. We found her and I discover we’re meeting a couple other people. Cool!
Other person #1 shows up and she is very nicely put together, and I come to find out a medical professional. My friend is a prosthetician (cool, right?). I, on the other hand, have baby legs dangling from my midriff.
We sit down at the restaurant and Other Person #1 asks me what my job is. I answer with “I don’t work”. I’m met with silence. In all reality, I guess that’s sort of a “getting to know you” chit chat killer, especially when said while connecting another person to one’s chest underneath a veritable tent with a dahlia print. Oops.
Other Person #2 shows up and is a very nice young professional male. The three proceed to chat about their jobs, the cool places in town to go eat, how my friend’s date the night before went, etc… All I can come up with as far as conversation goes is how my baby woke up screaming the night before but calmed down after she farted.
So it was a little eye opening for me. I felt a little, I don’t know, dowdy? These people were all extremely nice and my friend is great with my children, but at the moment I’m in an entirely different world than they are. I’ll admit I’m jealous of their freedom. My friend went out to a nice dinner and a bar for drinks last night and I watched Blue’s Clues.
For the rest of the time I was with them (sacrificing ideal small kid nap time, and sweating that I’d pay for my gamble all afternoon instead of enjoying the company) I listened and contributed where I could, as I caught endangered cups of juice and dug through my enormous bag in search of forms of amusement for an almost three year old. Then I changed two diapers and took my leave.
I feel decidedly un-cool this evening. (sigh)
We went to the zoo with my parents today. Payne wanted a snack and I was hungry too, so I suggested to him that we get a tube o’ popcorn. This suggestion was greeted with much enthusiasm and he ripped into the starchy cylinder with gusto.
Then my Mom and I tried to get some. Payne was reluctant. In fact, I’d say he was downright pissed. My Mother promised him that if we ran out of popcorn we would get some more. His iron grip on the top of the popcorn bag relaxed a touch. We were allowed to get handfuls out of the bag with merely a moderately concerned look from its guard.
Payne spent the next hour shoving disturbingly large handfuls of the stuff into his mouth. He probably ate half of the bag pictured by himself. I was relieved when it was finally gone.
Then we passed the popcorn stand again. He remembered our promise.
I re-promised (spectacular parenting here!) that we would get some as we left, and he was calmed.
Then when we went to leave we tried to find some ‘corns, as he calls them, but found out they’re only sold at that one stand. Payne’s eyes widened in sorrow, he tucked his chin, there was a hint of a lip quiver,…and then my Dad was trotting back to the middle of the zoo as the rest of us waited outside.
When the popcorn had been presented, Payne was overjoyed. This involved some maniacal laughing. I allowed him to shove a couple handfuls into his mouth and then put the rest away for “after lunch”.
After lunch, a couple more handfuls, then it was put away for “after the train ride”.
During the train ride I had to wrestle the bag away from him and “lock” it closed with a hair tie. He was displeased with me and pouted. I told him he could have more after his nap.
He fell asleep in the car on the way home. As my father was lifting him from his car seat Payne awoke slightly and softly whimpered “Pop corns?”.
I gave him a Tupperware bowl full of the stuff after his nap. He finished it all and ate a full dinner.
All in all. I’m betting he ate a whole tube o’ corns by himself today. I had to put chap stick on him before bed because his lips were red and irritated from all of the salt. My kid injured himself with food.
Things I’m fairly certain my child would eat until he barfed:
– Macaroni and cheese from a box
I have a glass licker.
I’d honestly hoped that this behavior was a fluke…that had “fluked” several times. Today, at incidence number four-ish I had to admit that my kid enjoys licking glass in public places.
Let me set the stage for this little story. Chick Fil A (i.e. Mecca of stay at home moms) has an indoor play area that is completely closed in. This includes one glass wall intended to allow parents to supervise play. It’s not unlike a little kid ant farm. There are booths lined up along this glass wall on the outside, and usually a bench or two lined up along it within the play area. This allows children to climb up on the benches and be eye level with those dining in the booths, with only a pane of glass between them. It’s like the chimp viewing area at the zoo, with shockingly similar behavior to be observed.
My beloved son enjoys climbing up on a bench, making eye contact with those seated at the opposing booth, and repeatedly licking the glass. He will continue to lick until I notice and he is dragged off of the bench, leaving a drool trail in his wake. Payne is a charmer, let me tell you. I wish I had a photo, but I haven’t taken the time to preserve this joyous little moment for obvious reasons.
Now, the really entertaining part in all of this is the vast range of reactions he receives. When a pair of stay at home mothers in the middle of an animated conversation were the recipients of this little visual treat, they glanced over, barely smirked, and continued as if nothing were out of the ordinary. I fell in love with them just a little bit for this. On the opposite end of the spectrum was the woman who gasped and promptly adopted a look of such disgust that I was sure she was about to vomit into her fry carton. Today we simply received hysterical laughter, for which I was grateful.
Let’s add “If you lick the glass again, we’re going home.” to the list of things I never though I’d utter aloud, right alongside “We do not blow our nose at people”.
I’m assuming cocktails are frowned upon at 2 p.m.?