Yes, we bought our son a drum. And, no, actually we haven't lived to regret it. The kid's path to rock stardom has got to start somewhere, right?
Editor's note: Daddy is generally in charge of changing Walt out of his church clothes on Sunday while Mommy gets lunch ready. Apparently Daddy thinks that our fashion sense needs a day of rest too.
Mommy is generally in charge of snack time because Mommy is generally
home during snack time. Needless to say, it's probably best that I'm
not there, because this is how it went one day last week.
1. The snacks, an empty cup (?) and various snacking liquids are distributed.
2. Mommy, of course, grabs her camera.
3. Walt begins doing what he does best: puts small things into larger things.
4. Walt proceeds with his usual caution and genetic neatness.
5. A few stray kernels get away.
6. A few more kernels hit the carpet.
7. The cleanup of the snack begins to get in the way of the eating of the snack. So, Walt abandons the cleanup . . .
8. . . . and concentrates on the eating.
And that, dear readers, is snack time. My son eating popcorn from the floor of his nursery.
In a related note, if Walt ever approaches you while you are eating a snack and has the following look on his face, it's best just to relent and give him some of whatever you're eating. This is his "give me some of that" face. Trust us.
So, it's a scorching Saturday in the Bluff City and the wise thing to do is to pull the blinds and hunker down in the air conditioned comfort of home. Which is what we did for the majority of the day last weekend. Mommy and Daddy even managed to stay in bed for several hours after the child woke up (at 8:15, the little darling!) by sending him on various errands to retrieve toys and books from the four corners of the house. Josh refers to this as Meth-Parenting. Not meth as in "method", like "method acting", but meth as in methamphetamines. You know, the latest drug scourge to hit the urban scene. I argue that if we were really being like meth-parents, we wouldn't be interacting with our son, but rather pushing him away in a drug-induced stupor. As it was, I believe we were creating precious memories of reading Dr. Seuss and eating Cheerios in bed on a steamy Saturday morning. But I digress.
Although we managed to pacify Walt with indoor activities for the morning, once he was up from his nap, Walt was no longer content to be contained indoors. At about 4:00, Josh and I peered cautiously out of the blinds, determined that we couldn't actually see the heat waves rising off the street anymore, and decided to take one for the team and leave the house. But where to go?
"Tra-ee?"
"What's that, Walt?"
"Tra-ee?"
"Ah yes, the trolley! A capital idea!"
Okay, maybe it wasn't entirely his idea, but as was mentioned in a previous post, Walt is quite the fan of the downtown trollies. He took a ride on one last month when he and I went downtown with Kate and Meredith to vote, but it was very quick. So Daddy had the idea of going to his office, picking up the firm trolly passes (because I guess we're too cheap to foot the $1 fare?) and riding the whole riverfront loop. So off we went.
As much as he adores watching the trollies from afar, Walt wasn't too sure what he thought of actually riding one. Here "Mum" (which is what he is currently calling me) gives him a little pep talk.
He warmed up to the idea after sitting next to Daddy for a while.
And then he just plain warmed up.
Poor child inherited his father's internal thermostat. They are sweaters, those two. To cool off, we stopped on the plaza with the fountains.
Ah, much better. But here come the trollies, so we gotta hop aboard.
This time, Walty is an old pro at the trolley thing and decides to point out the sites to us.
"Now this, Mum and Daddy, is the Mississippi River. It is made of water. Which is why I am frantically signing 'water'."
As usual, a good time was had by all.
This afternoon, we had to run an errand that was close to downtown and as we headed that way, I noticed Walt paying special attention to the passing scenery. Suddenly, from the backseat, I hear,
"Tra-ee?"
Not this time, Walty. But definitely again soon. Very soon.
Walt apparently is. He happened to discover his sweater with the football on it in the closet the other day and promptly hopped up and led me to Josh's closet where he stood there pointing and exclaiming most adamantly about something. It took dumb Mommy a few minutes to catch on to the fact that he wanted the football that Daddy keeps in the top of the closet. The only problem is that he can't figure out which position he wants to play . . .
Center, maybe?
Nah, not enough face time on Sports Center. How about kicker?
Definitely fun, but kickers get no respect. (Undeservedly so, in my opinion.) Ah, I think he's got it now . . .
Chicks always dig the QB.
Happy Birthday to my favorite aunt who has the same name as Mommy! (We don't want Aunt Mimi and Aunt Harriet to get jealous.) Hope you have a great day!!
P.S. Look, Daddy even learned how to spell "birthday" right for the occasion.
Apparently we have already had a post entitled "A Boy and His Dog", thus the "Part Deux". But there's really nothing else this post could be called. Because it is about a boy:
And his dog:
You see, the boy loves the dog very much.
But the dog does not entirely trust the boy.
Because sometimes the boy likes to bonk the dog on the head. (Even though he is strongly admonished not to when he does so.) However, the boy is willing to play with the dog when no one else will, and so she puts up with his shenanigans.
And, yes, I know that wearing sandals with your diaper is so last season, but someone is a bit OCD about having his shoes on. Don't most kids generally want to take their shoes off? Yeah, I thought so.
Our baby is now officially closer to being two than one. Excuse me a moment. (Muffled sobbing. Sniff sniff.) Okay, all better now!
So, what's the 'ol Walternator been up to this month? Well, mostly running his yapper. Yes, since Gram's visit a couple of weeks ago Walt has not stopped talking. He will attempt to repeat pretty much anything you say, with varying levels of success. He has a remarkably clear version of "jelly" (as in "jelly" beans), but of course, that's also what he calls the Bushes' dog, whose name is actually "Ellie". I don't know how Ellie feels about it, but I think it's pretty cute.
Another one of his frequent words is "Daddy". He's a big fan of Daddy.
Walt's newest word (as of tonight) is "potty", (or in Waltese, "totty"). This vocabulary addition was brought on by the purchase of a potty of his very own, which he likes to sit on, preferably nekkid.
Not that we're really starting potty training yet . . . just thought we'd let him get used to the idea.
While his spoken vocabulary is increasing daily, the number of words he recognizes just blows my mind. I really only have to tell him what something is a couple of times before he's got it down. Here, we have a fruit/veggie lesson:
Now if we could only get him to eat a fruit or vegetable that is not a banana, strawberry or green bean. Oh wait, I forgot, he also likes mashed sweet potatoes:
I mean he really likes mashed sweet potatoes. (This started out as a lesson on using a fork. I think we need another lesson.)
Let's see, what else has Walt been enjoying this month? Well, he still loves to hit the sprinkler park on a hot day:
He likes doing puzzles:
He likes walking around with his "Slicky" on his head (and has a remarkable ability not to run into things while doing so):
He likes doing the "naked dance" both before and after bathtime:
He likes making gazpacho:
Okay, maybe it was just that once. After he realized that it was made completely of vegetables, he wasn't too interested anymore. If someone would please send him a good macaroni and cheese recipe (that doesn't include pureed spinach like Mommy's does!), he might see fit to channel his inner Julia Child again.
All in all, Walt spent his nineteenth month on our fair planet being the sweet, wonderful kid he's always been. Sure, there have been lapses in the sweetness and wonderfulness at times, but those times are mercifully brief, so we think we will keep him. Plus, he's really cute.
Walt recently discovered Daddy's shoehorn and so, in an attempt to keep him from using it to intimidate Evie, Josh taught him its proper use. Now, every morning, Walt hangs around as Daddy's getting dressed, shoehorn at the ready, waiting for his services to be needed. And then he puts it neatly back in the closet. As I've said before, definitely his father's child.
Okay, okay, who am I to argue with the demands of the CCWWE . . . especially when the European chapter weighs in! (However, if you really want more posts, you should use what I'm sure is your tremendous lobbying power to either have a few more hours added to the day, or convince Walt to take longer naps.)
After hearing about all the fun that Gram and Walt had in the backyard this weekend, Josh and I decided that we wanted in on the fun, so we headed out to enjoy the 98-degree weather. (Who do I file a complaint with about this, by the way?) Some pics from Sunday afternoon . . .
Aunt Mimi, not only does Walt lick (maybe kiss is a better word) the bubble wand . . .
. . . but he also likes to drink out of the water gun!
So Daddy taught him the proper way to use a weapon (we do live in the big city, you know).
Whatever, Daddy. I'm a pacifist!
And now for the clean-up. For both Walty and Mommy.
What are you doing hiding under that towel, Mommy? I'll take that!
But it's a duck towel, Mommy! Don't ducks live in the water?
