Batteries fix everything

P is 3 now. I need to change the name of my blog. The conversations are more logical and filled with "guess what, why, and what is that." He chatters constantly and at his 3 year well-check with the doctor asked if he was stringing words together to make sentences I couldn't help but laugh. Of course at the well-check he didn't say a word. He may be a chatter box and only slightly shy, but he is no performing monkey and we can't make him do anything he doesn't want to do.

We stopped at the gas station the other day and one of the pumps had the cheesy shopping bag over the nozzle. Does every gas station every where do that or just here? Of course I didn't see it until I started to pull through (I'm a good courteous gas-getter and pull up to the first pump so that someone can pull in behind me). I had to swing the car around and find another, usable pump. Que question central from the back seat.

P: "Why we have to move?"

Me: "That one is broken; we have to go to a different one"

P: "Why go to dif'rent one?"

Me: "That one is not working."

P: "It just need batteries that all"

Me: "Oh really"

P: "Yep, batteries fix it."

A few days later, something else wasn't working in the house. It was nothing batteries could fix I can assure you. I think one of his fire trucks is on it's dying leg as far as sound is concerned.

He comes running out of his room
P: "Mama, it no workin"
Me: "What's wrong with it."

P: "See it no working"

He puts it down on the end table and takes off to that previously hidden battery location.

P: "I go get battery"

Me: "P, batteries aren't going to fix it"
He stops mid-run and matter-of-factly tells me

P: "Dah-ee put batteries in it and make it work."

He also needs batteries when he's out of energy. I'm not kidding you he will tell me that "I need en-er-gee, get me battery"

When did our world become so electronically and battery dependent that even a now 3 year old is convinced that's what keeps everything going?

"Wash my feets"

My baby will be 3 in less than a month! Those conversations with a 2 year old are already starting to change. We have reached the “why” and “what’s that” stage and when I use a word or phrase he doesn’t know he asks “what that mean, mama?”



Sadly, this is not the bathroom at our house

He has it in his head that he is much older and more mature than he should be. His latest thing is showering by himself. I turn on the water, suds up his scrubby, and help him take his shirt off and he pops right over the side and into the tub. I just have to sit on the closed toilet lid and listen to his sing song voice.

“Wash my feets”

“Wash my legs”

“Wash my booty”

“Wash my pee pee”

“Wash my belly”

“Wash my arms”

“Wash my hair”

I do have to step in and remind him to get under his arms and under his chin and then I wash his back. He needs a little supervision in the rinsing aspect. He prefers to play in the stream of water instead of making sure all of him has been washed clean of the soap.

We also adjusted his Power Wheels 4-wheeler so that he has full access to turtle and bunny speed. I was immediately reminded of a Mario Cart character when he started zipping around. It even sounds the same. Surprisingly he’s good at driving, evading, and stopping. He only ran over my foot and I don’t think that was totally on accident. He has to wear a helmet though so if you see him riding at our house he’s sporting his helmet while zipping around the cul-de-sac. Safety first, no arguments.

Thank you Bubble Guppies

I'm not really sure just how much Bubble Guppies has to do with it, but honestly if you lived in my neighborhood earlier you would have seen a 2 year old running in circles in the driveway wearing nothing but a t-shirt, pull-up, and carrying a shoe while chanting "circles, circles, circles." Throw in a few "circles with my shoes" in this chant and we are all out party.

It all started with a Bubble Guppies (or Buh Puppies, if you prefer the way it is referred to around here) song about lining up to go outside. It's kinda catchy and hip hop and when a two year old sings it is summed up as "line up, line up, outside." That is how we got outside. (Aren't the little Bubble Guppies cute?)

Running in circles ensued, with both the garage door and myself getting lots of waves and "hi's"All of a sudden he stopped....a bird, a swallow to be precise, was flying over. "Oh, look mama, bird go in circles like P does." I just nod and smile my agreement. "Watch at bird mama, watch fly in circles."

"I'm watching P," I tell him. He looks at me seriously, "bird has wings to fly fly fly really high," as he's flapping his arms like wings. Then the bird does it, the bird flies over the house on one of the loops. You would think we were at an acrobatic air show. "Wow, mama, mama, the bird flew over my new house," and he starts giggling uncontrollably. The giggling turns into sprinting in circles again.

All in all at least I can proudly say that my son knows what a circle is, recognizes birds and that they have wings, and can associate that someone/thing is doing something like he is. I'm so proud, even if all of this was done in his underwear out for everyone to see.

He finished his night with playful roughhousing, collapsed between us and said "I love you guys."

He just told me he wants to go to the Yo Gabba Gabba place. I think it is time for bed.

Awwww P.....

You hear "Awww P" a lot at our house. It's the term of endearment when P does something that isn't exactly copacetic. Some days potty training goes well; some days we go through a lot of Buzz Lightyear and Gabba Gabba undies.                                                             

Tonight before snack

Me: P do you need to go potty?

P: No I no potty.

Me: P you need to go potty; let's go to the potty.

cue meltdown

P: No go potty; no go potty

Me: Ok if you potty in your pants I'm going to swat your booty. (It's an empty threat; I have yet to swat him for pottying in his pants even though I tell him that every time he refuses to go potty then has an accident.)

A little while later I'm loading the dishwasher and P is playing trucks in the middle of the living room. I hear "awwww....P" which of course made me giggle and ask him to repeat himself. Does this mean we've given our child a complex now that he recognizes when he does something we would find less than ideal? I walk in and he immediately says "no spank my booty" followed by "look a tree." His puddle on the sand colored living room carpet did look remarkably like a palm tree. He strolled right into the bathroom and finished going to the potty. I did not spank his booty, either, or make him clean the carpet. He likes to clean the carpet so there goes that handy "make them clean their mess" tip from the potty-training gurus. It's worse if I don't let him clean the carpet...and I didn't...let him that is; I still cleaned the carpet. 

If he does good with his potty training at the sitter's then he will get a prize. The prize has never been outlined but he's gotten it into his head exactly what he's getting. On the way to the sitter this morning he was sitting quietly in the back seat when he burst out with "I go potty at Ms. B's I get a prize"

Me: Yes you do; what prize are you going to get?

P: A rabbit

Me: A rabbit?

P: Yep, a real rabbit

I love my creative little boy but that poor rabbit wouldn't survive a day with our dogs. I have no idea where he came up with that, but he's very insistent. I had rabbits when I was a growing up but I'm not so sure they are the ideal pet for a rambunctious 2 year old. I wonder if he would settle for a fish. Do they make Toy Story aquariums? I may be on to something here......

Moving, Flooding, Life

Posts have become few and far between thanks to all that is going on in our world (flooding response at work, buying and moving into a new house, etc). The same can't be said for conversations with P.

During some overtime, can't get away from work for anything hours that I put in in response to the flooding in our area a few weeks ago our sitter took P to the doctor. He was complaining of his ear hurting, his eye was goopy, and I figured while he was there he should have the random spots on his belly check out. He had an ear infection, that's why his eye was goopy, and the spots on his belly are a random virus that has to run it's course (up to 6 months+).

Somewhere in the time of having an ear infection he realized what the term "sick" meant. So this morning I have to go drag him out of bed.

Me: "It's time to get up."
P: "No, I seepin'"
Me: "C'mon you slept in, we've got to go."
P: "No I sick."
Me: "You're sick?"
P: "I says I sick."
Me: "Do you need to go to the doctor?"
P: uncovering and holding his knee "Yes, doctor. My boo-boo owie"
Me: "Well how about doctor mommy kiss it?"
P: "No, go dr. kinz"
He actually wants to go to his doctor.
Me: "Well either way you have to get up and get dressed."
P: "ok"

He even told his dah-ee that he needed to go to Dr. Kinz for his owie. Owie is a week old scab and bruise.

I missed the part in that non-existent handbook that told me the age that kids would figure out they could say they were sick to stay in bed or stay home. Who told my kid that would work?

P's new room in the making:

Spring is here

In our house apparently that means that P starts falling out of the bed. Ok well not that it's a regular occurrence. He fell out once just a few nights ago and he's been in a twin size bed with no rails nor pushed up against any walls. There just so happens to be a table beside his bed which he actually climbs on to get in his bed.

I wake up to a thud and crying at that wonderful hour of 3:00am. Let me tell you, I shot out of bed so fast that I launched an 80 pound Lab across the room. I found P on his knees on the floor holding his head and crying. He cuddled right in when I picked him up, we laid back in the bed, dah-ee brought milk, and we went back night-night. It wasn't until morning and time to start the day that I realized there was dried blood on P's ear and pillow. Things are all right; it was only a flesh wound.

Our morning conversation when something like this....

Me: "P, did you fall out of the bed last night?"

P: "Uh-huh. Like this" cue throwing arms above head and head falling back

P (lying on the floor in the same position I found him): "Then I cry like this; wah-ah-ah-ah"

Just like that...he didn't actually cry again he literally said "wah-ah-ah-ah"

I picked him up again and looked at his ear.

Me: "We need to go clean your ear; it was bleeding"

cue shocked expression on 2 year old's face

P: "Ah, my ear" complete with whiny voice and grabbing of wrong ear.

The next night he did not fall out of the bed, but he did show up in the bed with my husband and I at that lovely 0-3:30 hour. When I went to beg him out of bed in a good mood the next morning I thought I would remind him that he was planting flowers with the sitter. (I'm jealous. I had to spend a beautiful day confined to my office while he got to play in the garden.)

He sat up in the bed without a trace of sleep left in his voice:

P: "I dig dirt shovel?" (We really need to work on adding those little things called articles and prepositions)

Me: "Yes you will get to dig in the dirt with your shovel."

P: "Then I pour water down down down?"

Me: "Yes then you can water the flowers"

P: "No no mama. I pour water down"

Me: "Oh ok, you want to pour the water down?"

P (in the teenager duh mom your stupid tone): "Yes (nods head) I  said pour water down"

If he already treats me like I'm just an adult that has no idea what I'm talking about what's it going to be like in 10 years or so?

The Very Hungry Caterpillar

Who can resist the silly little colorful caterpillar that Mr. Eric Carle has made so popular. This book was P's choice to read to me tonight. That wasn't a typo; you read it right. P reads to me on occasion. This is how the story went.

For an intro or refresher on what the book looks like; the pages are off set.

P starts with Monday: "hungry"
Tuesday: "hungry hungry"
Wednesday: "'til hungry"
Thursday: "eat hungry"
Friday: "'most done"
Saturday: "whoa, very hungry, hurt tummy"
Sunday: we skip
"fat pillar"
"butterfly!"

If you didn't get the drift of P's story. The caterpillar is hungry so he eats and eats, gets a tummy ache, becomes fat, and then turns into a butterfly. A lot of concentration goes into P's "reading" and by no means should anyone interrupt him. I'm so excited that he likes to read and wants to read to us. I grew up loving to read and I hope that it's being passed down. If his silly stories that he creates by remembering bits and pieces of what I've read to him then I think it's a good sign.