Arty Tarty Christmas Party

Christmas Blitz

Christmas Blitz, Part Deux

More .. .

And a few more . . .

Gushing -- Sometimes its a Must

Warning: this entry is gushy. Really gushy. You may want to avoid if you're not particularly sentimental.

Okay, it's time. I've got to brag a bit, gush a bit, about the most amazing thing in my life. I remember my sister-in-law not too long ago telling me she was in love with her son, and its an apt description. That drive to be near, to hold onto, the never getting enough -- it's all there, in its purest, untainted form. I've been conscious for awhile that's Reed's become a person with unique attributes, moods, and certainly a big personality, but the more he talks, the more its undeniably present. He still looks baby, talks baby, but I'm acutely aware this period is soon gone and retrievable only via this blog, photos, video. And I've recorded really so very little of who he is that I've decided its time to write more, in my voice, in a futile but hopeful effort to render his babyhood permanently. What am I loving right now? Where do I start? Reading "Moo, Baa, LaLaLa" -- the first book he's got memorized -- nearly word for word. His penchant for identifying animals and his contagious excitement over this daily (sometimes hourly) activity. The newest? Giraffe, "elphie" (elephant), the finally identified AS penguins penguins (previously? Ducks), tigers, zebras, raptors, compys (yes, compsognathus, the little guys forever imprinted in the pop culture lexicon via multiple installments of Jurassic Park), the new fascination with dinos . . . the old fascination with doggies and kitties, perhaps his longtime and forever favorites. Bob the Christmas Reindeer. "Sleep" Bear. Elmo . .. and how so. Elmo was first spotted on Sesame Street, then later in the newly acquired Elmo books and tomorrow, his Christmas present from Grammie: Hokey Pokey Elmo. He's seen it already and is a bit terrified, but I guess a screeching, 3-D Elmo that actually does the Hokey Pokey is a bit more intimidating than his screen counterpart. We're a bit worried that this fear is going to translate to Kota the Triceratops, his one (over-the-top but fantastic Christmas present). What can I say? We just couldn't resist (and, at a buck thirty, I can't resist a deal). Here's hoping -- it will make a great video. And the stuff he SAYS -- I spend most days alternately amused and amazed. I'd hoped for a reader, and a talker, and I got my wish. Our favorite? Ask him who the president is, and you're rewarded with an adorably enunciated "Obama". Sometimes, you'll even get a "Barack" with that. "Pinecones, candy cane, fridgerdatter/fridgerbutter (I hope he never learns to pronounce this properly), reindeer, tree, "look, lights!" jewry, stripes . . ." it's difficult to remember and to remember to record. Ed and I wanted to keep a list of all the words he's said, and in what order, and we're pretty behind on that. Since the explosion of talking that began three months ago, we've pretty much managed to make meeting this goal an absolute impossibility. Still, I suppose a few installments as we move forward to preserve the most memorable will have to do. On that note, and a final one, then, I leave you with "love you!" and "kiss!" always proffered after a sweet, sloppy, open-mouthed smack on the cheek. Or head. Or cheek. Or teeth. It's hard to be irritated at all when these priceless gifts are offered throughout the day.

A Transformative Day

My mama and dada are excited today. This is a special day, an historic day, even a transformative day. I am glad to be a part of it though I have no idea what is going on. Still, I will one day, and that is the most important thing. I am glad to live in a time during which an African-American has been elected, perhaps not by a landslide but by a significant margin, the president of the United States. And sometime soon I will realize this. What an awesome responsibility the mama and dada have -- to help me shape my impression of the world and from there develop a nuanced, thoughtful worldview. They hope I will look up to them, and I hope so, too.

In the meantime -- doggies and trucks rule!!!

Mud sandwich, anyone?
The mama's just about given up on this one -- live and let live, she says. A little dirt never hurt anyone. On the other hand, the amount I try to consume is, perhaps, a bit extreme. Eventually, I get the finger sweep/mouth plow. Foulness, I say.

I wore this for all of 12 seconds. Still, it looks the mama actually dressed me up, no? I won't lie -- I was in bed by 6:30. Fun times.

Random Shots, and Random Thoughts

A By No Means Comprehensive List of What I'm Into These Days (Whiskers on kittens makes the list, but raindrops on roses we don't see here too often . . . )
Doggies. Still . . . doggies. The mama and dada consider getting me one on a daily basis so I'll shut up. They haven't, and I won't. Kitties, trucks, and cars are running a close second. Cars, though, because of the sound they make, are "uns" (as in ununUN . . . start your engine! as an unfortunate toy Namah purchased me says). I don't know why adults don't use more onamatopoeia. It just makes sense. I still like eating rocks and dirt, too, but not quite as much now that I've acquired my newer obsessions.

Word-wise, I've certainly discovered some new and improved choices. The mama and dada love mimicry, let me tell you, especially when it takes the form of "stop!" and "unh uh!". "Lock", "dance", "nut", "pick" (as in, yes, "pick me up!"), "pretty", "vac" (I do love that vacuum),
"heart", "moon", and "Amy" are right up there
with the perennial
favorites "hot", "eat me",
and "Ikey!" I'm also fond
of letters e and a and am working on b,c, and d. Hey, it takes time. In the meantime, I'm most certainly into apples and bananas ("aps" and "nanas" respectively. I've a new appreciation for nuts, thanks to Namah, and do my best to pull them out of other people's mouths. A charming habit, to be sure, but I think I'll get away with it for a bit longer. 2, maybe. I sure don't get it often, but I do love "chiz", especially of the string variety. And coffee. Oohhhhh, yeah! There's nothing better than eating, and I'm the champion in my household.
I'm most enjoying books while the 'rents, who previously hoped furiously that I'd be a reader, are ready for me to can it. They've actually hidden them from me. Whatevs. I know where they are. And if you got me one for my birthday . . . thanks! (Especially if they've got moons, kitties, or doggies in them).
Let's see. I'm a terrible napper, a great (as you may have imagined) eater, a fantastic hide-and-seeker, a newly enthusiastic dancer (tell me to "shake shake, shake shake a shake it!" and I most certainly will, and a cuddly hugger (that is, when I feel like distributing the highly coveted "huggies", not to be confused with my bottoms of choice). Oh, and I like to brush my teeth, too.

Birthday Redux (Yes, it was a month ago)

dsf











Sometimes, words won't suffice. This is one of them.