1) Fuzzy is getting better and better at telling stories. He has a microwavable bunny, intended to keep him warm at night. Unfortunately, after repeated use last winter, the bunny has acquired a distinct and not particularly pleasant smell. I brought it into his room the other day, and Fuzz demanded to know where the smell was coming from. When I explained about the bunny, Fuzzy launched into quite a long spiel:
"Da smell is going to go up da tree, and the birds in the nest will wake up and say 'oh no!' Then the smell will go down, down, down, into a hole. Da squirrel dug da hole, and da smell will go in it wit da acorn!"
2) In addition to the smelly bunny, Fuzzy is also the proud owner of a towel with a hood on it. However, he refuses to use the towel for it's intended purpose, and instead calls it his 'hooded blanket.' When he gets upset, he sometimes demands to be wrapped in his blanket, and he always wants it to cover him at night. One evening after I covered him with it and said 'good night,' he told me the following:
"Mama, you no have a hooded blanket! Next time we go to store, we buy you a hooded blanket. And next time we go to the bunny store, we buy a bunny fo' Sprout, so we can be nice and warm together!"
3) In anticipation of a visit by The Pitt's father, Fuzzy told me the following: "Gandpa Pitt is on a train. Choo choo! He's going through da tunnel and down the tracks and to my hoooooome!"
4) Mid-way through the month, we experienced a series of unfortunate events - one evening Fuzzy demanded to be picked up while I was heading upstairs with an armload of stuff, and when I tried to scoop him up, he ended up flipping over my arm and falling back to the hardwood floor, right onto his head. That night he woke up and threw up twice, so I thought he might be coming down with a stomach bug. But in the morning, he was fine, so we went down to the playground. There, after playing happily for a few minutes, Fuzzy saw one of his friends approaching, and ran to greet him. The boys ended up hugging on the sidewalk, and then promptly got into a shoving match and fell over. At 25 pounds, Fuzzy ended up on bottom, smacking his head hard against the cement.
Usually Fuzzy shakes off injuries pretty fast, but after this bump, it took me almost ten minutes to calm him down. Then he threw up all over both of us. After I got him changed he started whimpering again, so I sat on the swing and rocked him, at which point he fell asleep. Around this time it occurred to me that kids throw up after concussions, not just with stomach bugs, and we called the pediatrician, who asked us to come in. By the time we actually got to the doctor's office, Fuzzy was his usual cheerful, babbling self, and he aced all the neurological tests.
Unfortunately, the repeated vomiting after hitting his head had the pediatrician rather concerned, so she sent us to the ER for more observation. There we sat for a few hours before seeing a doctor, who asked Fuzzy what happened. "I bumped my head on da' cement!" This doctor went through the same neuro tests as the pediatrician, and then sent us home with a concussion diagnosis. Except two-year olds can't really be treated for concussion, so the only advice we got was "try to avoid him hitting his head again!"
We did our best, but now whenever Fuzzy is feeling a little sick, he tells us that we need to take him to the hospital.
5) Fuzz is now asking 'why' questions instead of 'what' questions, and also talking nonstop. He also sometimes talks in his sleep about the events of the day, and occasionally wakes up at night wanting to chat.
6) Fuzzy has gotten wise to the fact that visitors bring him presents. For example, we were driving to preschool when we had the following exchange:
"Mama, mama, der no mo' pumpkins - Hawoween is almost here!"
"Err, no, when there are no more pumpkins, that means that Halloween is over. But Thanksgiving is almost here. Do you know who's coming to visit us for Thanksgiving?"
"No, I wish Baba was coming too, but Dina and Noam are coming!"
"OH!" Considering pause, then, "Will dey bwing me a surpise?!"
"I think so baby."
Very wistfully "...maybe it will be a cane tuck."
Luckily for him, Dina and Noam indeed brought him a crane truck, and there was much rejoicing.
7) After a month of hating preschool, Fuzzy made a friend, and now likes going again. "Is Andoo at pweeschool? I want to see Andoo!"
9 years ago