In October, Aaron has some time off from work. I told him I'd take him to London, as he has never been overseas for fun (just for Uncle Sam). But check your calendars ladies and gents! It's nearly the end of May and our dear boy has yet to get a passport. So! Alternate plans are being considered. I've sent away for travel brochures to some US locations, because whether or not we go to London, we have to give Adrian over to the grandparents for a week. A week without a 6 am wake up "Mama!", a week without my life revolving around the schedule of the tiny tot! Clearly I cannot sit at home--the silence would be soul-crushing. If the much needed passport is not obtained, we will still be going somewhere. Or, I can go and Aaron can stay here.
Baby prison? No! Baby House! Which Adrian pronounces "haus". Followed by "Nana"(provider of house) and "Ank Oo" (Thank you). He's recently started saying "thanks" without prompting (it happens 30% of the time), but it sounds like "angst". Either he needs to work on his diction or he's terribly precocious. (Egads! He's a teen already!)
The main attractions of the baby house are as follows: he can move it with minimal assistance, it's an excellent spot for hide-and-seek (as well as hide-and-poop), he can look out the windows while declaring "peek!", and it has funny little drawings of ladybugs all over it. We'll see how long the love affair lasts. (Hopefully years)
It was a life saver on Sunday when everybody(my mom, Aaron's parents, and Aaron) left. There were only a few tears and they were from me (yes, I'm a big giant crybaby. Let's move on) My mom's visit was fun, although the weather was MISERABLE. Forty degrees and rainy the whole time. Adrian calls her "Guh" for Grandma, and spent most of his time telling her to sit and/or watch. There's no doubt that he's the Little Emperor.
Yesterday he was standing on one of the dining room chairs and I asked him to sit (repeatedly). So I finally said (loudly) SIT! DOWN! his response : AAAAA! AAAAAAA! I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe. It was unexpected, and I found it really funny that he thought that would pass muster as a convincing argument in his favor. After I was done with the laughing and the wiping of eyes, I said "that was really funny, but I still need you to sit" And he did. Mystery.
Not much to say--hey-hey-hey. My mom gets in tonight for a brief stay and I'm super excited. I even bought flowers. There's still cleaning to be done (surprise, surprise) and curtains to be hung (surprise, surprise).
But enough of the balr-de-blar from me. Go to Flickr and check out the new pictures.
Here it is, an up-to-date users guide to the subtle and nuanced language of Adrian (or what one childless friend refered to as inane baby burble--wait till you have your own and then you'll see how far from inane it is)
In no particular order:
Ba : Ball Buh: Book, Bird, Burt (from Sesame Street or Mary Poppins) BaBa: Bottle (although this is a universal one) Bach: Lunchbox (our cat) Aaa: Jack (the other cat) Ti tees: Kitties Eeeee : Eat Na nan: Lawn Mower Hecah: Helicopter Tutuck: Dump truck Sigh : Outside Duhstes: Downstairs Cow: Cloud Moo : Cow Up : Up App: Apple, Apricot Coo: Cool Fa : Far Fwoe: Throw Keet : Kitchen Chay : Chair Tash : Trash Durt : Dirt Wheee: Playground Wawa : Wagon Wawer: Water Tee : Tea, Tree Bi Bur: Big Bird Emoe : Elmo Oss : Oscar the Grouch Goger: Grover
Most of these are words and signs, especially in the instance where one sound may mean two things. It's fairly clever how he's training us to communicate. That's all for now. Stay tuned for further installments.
Congratulations! You're a year and a half! At which point your father would interject: only 16 and a half to go. I believe that it is fully appropriate to crown you with the title of toddler. You walk, run, dance (including the MC Hammer side-to-side dance taught to you by your father), and do the splits. You're interested in everything, which is fun to watch but provides unpleasant side effects such as the inability to leave the house in under 20 minutes, the refusal to sit in the grocery cart, and the desire to explore the personal space of strangers. Especially strangers with hats.
Your vocabularly expands daily with the most recent additions of Iowa, business, and Dude. Iowa is courtesy of your Granpa Gary who is bound and determined to see you go to the University of Iowa (you also know Herky, and can say Hawkeye), who spent the past weekend teaching you to play catch and say Iowa. Business came about because you were calling for Granpa and I told you "he'll be right back, he's taking care of business" You then looked at me and said "bissbiz". Now it's how we describe anyone who is off doing something in which you cannot participate: Nana's cooking? Nana's business. Dad's smoking a pipe? Dada's business. And Dude! You've said "dude" before, but now Dude applies to the one and only Jim King. You think Dude is pretty cool, as he will chase you around the yard and play catch. I also think that this increases his cool factor by a million.
Your eating habits are becoming heavily influenced by the word "no". Me: Adrian, would you like chicken or a hot dog? You: No. Me: How about peaches or a banana? You: No. Me: A cracker? You: No. Me: noodles? You: No. Me: what do you want? You: (sign language for eat) Me: you want to eat? You: No. (while trying to climb into high chair)
I'm going to stop giving you choices if you keep this up.
It's very funny to watch you grow and change. Every day you move a little closer to adulthood, all the while pushing me a little closer to the edge of my patience. I understand that this is normal, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. My least favorite is when you pretend that you can't hear me so that you can continue doing something I've just told you not to. I recently discovered that no ammount of explaining can prevent you from pitching a fit when you've decided to do so. This time in your life has also introduced me to a crucial point in my life: learning to divert my temper. I have a fierce temper, and I spend many moments counting to ten or taking deep breaths. I'll say that this is the most difficult aspect of parenting--I try to model "cool, calm, and collected" so that you may one day be able to do the same. I want you to know that it's okay to feel angry, but it's not okay to take that feeling out on someone else. I try hard to show you that your feelings matter, that some days aren't all sunshine and marshmellows, and that no matter how many fits you throw or how many times I tell you no my love for you doesn't waiver.