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.

Doggy Goats . . . Eat This!!

Mama here. Pics of Reed eating dirt, as usual, for your enjoyment. I'm going to post Reed's b-day extravaganza (read very small family party) soon. Yes, it was nearly a month ago. Who can keep up? In any case, we thought it time to share some of Reed's most recent feats and fantasies as he's far too humble to boast himself.

As some of your nearest and dearest know, "doggies" are among Reed's favorites -- not favorite animals, per se, but simply favorites, period. Where comes this recent obsession? Who knows. we don't have a dog and don't really plan on getting one. Still, doggies it is. Doggy books, doggy walks (walks looking for doggies, listening for doggies, calling for doggies . . . geez. I'm not even a dog person), the "Dog Whisperer." Whatevs, Reed -- doggies it is. And Ike. Ike's still in the running, too. In fact, Reed woke up screeching last night for "Ikey my kitty" of all things - typically, the babes want the babas, no? Not the grump ass cat.

But I digress. We live right behind a big ranch. And on this ranch, they have some goats, ei ei oh (a refrain I sing quite regularly as Reed hits repeat on his Leapfrog radio version of Old MacDonald). I noticed that all three were standing at the fence the other day and promptly dragged Reed up the hill to see them and feed them (the same green stuff they had already demolished within the confines of their area). Our conversation went a little like this:

Mama: Reed! Look at the goats!

Reed: Doggies.

Mama: No, Reed, they're not dogs. They're goats. Look at their heads. Did you see that one just butt his budy right here? These aren't dogs.

Reed: Doggies.

Mama: Sweetheart, they are NOT doggies. NOT dogs. Goats. Say "goats" for mama.

Reed: Mama, doggies. Mmm. Hot.

Mama: Reed! Look at the goat-doggies! Do you want to feed the goat doggies?

Reed. Unh. Doggies.

That is to say, Reed thinks many animals (wolves, foxes, goats . . . are dogs), just as he thinks many are ducks, a word long ago revealed as a personal favorite. What is it with babies and the word "duck"? I mean, how many babies have enough personal interaction with ducks to merit the fascination? One of our favorite books is "I Love My Daddy Because" . . . he plays with me like animal dadas play with their baby counterparts. Or, "All MalePeople and Animals Bigger Than You Are . . . Are Daddies". Er, right. In any case, we've learned that horned puffins are ducks, that loons are ducks (and I must give Reed credit on this one -- seriously; how many adults know the difference between a duck and a loon? And, isn't it enough for babies to try to learn all the "basic" animal names? I mean, I know we've all got personal context for the, uh, puffin and all, but come ON. Geese, of course, are also ducks, as well as any species of bird.

And, if you ask Reed what the green bean says (or the carrot or beet, on a good day), you'll get the now classic "EEEAAT ME!""" That's right, folks -- "eat me". When I attempted to coax this out of him, Ed warned me that this might not be the, um, best phrase to instill. I disagree -- it's funny as hell.