1) This month, he started saying 'I love you' ... although mostly only when coached, and not as an independent thought. However, after a few weeks of coaching, we did have the following exchange, after we heard sirens and I ran him through the entire house in time for him to see a fire truck go by out the front window.
Me: "Mama ran so fast so you could see that! Do you love Mama?"
Fuzzy: "I LOVE FIRE ENGINES!!"
However, after pointing out that his hero Caillou had been to a pool, Fuzz finally consented. The pool we selected has a little wading area for toddlers, and Fuzzy took a liking to it...all except for two plastic circles on the bottom. As I was unsure of their function when he questioned me, I made up a lie on the spot, and confidently told him they were drains. He then proceeded to be terrified of them for several visits, going so far as to warn the other children to stay away. "Be careful boy!" he would yell whenever one of the other kids ventured too near the drains.
After our fourth visit, he was a little less frightened of the drains, and a lot more willing to independently crawl around in the baby pool. "I swimmin! Swimmin is fun!! I love swimmin!" he screamed.
3) Dina and Noam visited us this month, and brought a little rocket launcher (similar to this) for Fuzzy. There was pure joy on his face as he yelled "One, two, fwee...BLASTOFF!!" while throwing his arms ecstatically in the air.
4) In honor of said visit, my mother made a run to the Russian store, and amongst various delicious and disgusting foods, purchased some sprats. The leftovers got put in the fridge, and a few days later, The Pit was at a loss for what to give Fuzzy for lunch. He threw these in a bowl, and the kid gobbled them up like they were candy.
5) Potty training has remained more or less the same as last month - if Fuzzy is induced to sit on his throne at regular intervals, all is good. If we forget, his reminding us is rather hit or miss, and will often happen *after* he's already gone in his pants. Sadly, he is rather resistant to actually using the potty throughout the day, as he appears to be under the misimpression that it only needs to happen once - "NO, I already did dat today!" he will exclaim when we suggest he sit down.
6) The other day, I was getting ready for work and Fuzzy was running around naked. As he ran past it, Fuzzy glanced at himself in the mirror, then paused, cocked his head, and murmured, "So handsome..." before running off again.
7) When he really wants me to do something, Fuzzy will now ask for it in the following manner - "Little [whatever it is] fwee times?" Apparently, just one of anything is now for chumps. For example, if he wants more bedtime songs after I've already announced "last one," instead of saying "one more," as he used to, he will now beg, "Little song fwee times? Pwease!"
8) The defining characteristic of this month has been incessant questioning. "What dat Mama...what dat? Mama, what dat could be?" or "Where dat noise come from?" Over and over and over again, about objects both novel and familiar. Often, when I ask him what he thinks the thing is, he will answer correctly, or even name the thing in his question - I'm thus puzzled as to why he torments me with exchanges like the following:
"What dat motorcycle could be Mama?"
"Err...a motorcycle."
"What dat motorcycle Mama?"
"It's a motorcycle baby, you just said it yourself."
"What *is* it Mama??"
9) We ordered pizza for dinner earlier this month, and Fuzzy got very excited when he was informed he could have some. Then I handed him a slice, and he immediately got concerned "Dis yucky...want CLEAN pizza!" he said. So I carefully picked off the tomatoes and bell peppers from his slice, handed it back, and set about eating my own. He studied me critically, and then said, "No, want Mama's pizza!" Then he shoved his half chewed piece at me, and gobbled up all of my slice.
10) Fuzzy was given a tricycle as an early birthday present about two months before he turned two. At the time, he could not seem to master the concept of pedaling. I'm proud to report that he's now mastered it, although in keeping with Peachy-side-of-the-family laziness, he only pedals downhill.
11) Fuzzy now pronounces banana as boonana, and mango as manga. As in, "Want manga juice Mama!"
The Pit: "Do you want to help me mow the lawn?"
Fuzzy: "Not wight now Dada."
Sprout starts to cry. Fuzzy: "Mama, hug Fpout"
Me: "Do you want to do it?"
Fuzzy, while clutching his Thomas the Train: "No fanks, I holding Thomas wight now."
During dinner. Me: "Do you want watermelon?"
Fuzzy: "Not wight now, I eating corn now Mama."
Did you give your kid a sparkler?
ReplyDeleteIndeed, and as I later learned, it was a highly illegal sparkler, to boot. Apparently they are considered fireworks here...oops.
ReplyDeleteThat's pretty metal. I burned the hell out of my finger with a sparkler when I was around 7. Then again I was/am dumb.
ReplyDeleteThat's weird about the legality. Back when I was growing up it seemed like VA had all kinds of stuff that was illegal in MD.
Yes, well, as it turns out, he couldn't really follow the directions either, and also suffered a small burn. On the whole, it was probably worth the joy they brought him. And pretty much everything is legal in the state of Virginia...it's our city that has the hippy regulations.
ReplyDeletedang hippys
ReplyDeleteI am so incredibly entertained by the motorcycle conversation and the "So handsome" comment.
ReplyDeleteOops...I even looked at 'hippy' and thought to myself, "something seems off...oh well." And upon further consideration, I'm not even sure hippie is the right way to describe the over-protective nanny state (or in this case, city).
ReplyDeleteOh I approve of that spelling. "Hippy" has a an old school "get off my lawn and cut your hair" feel to it that is entirely appropriate here.
ReplyDelete