Today you turned 19 months old, and I bet you say 19 words per minute. You are the chattiest son of a gun; even putting three words together now!
"Big school bus." "Bye-bye big truck." "Dada play guitar." "Big thunder loud!"
Most of the time your daddy and I know what you're saying, but sometimes it takes a while to figure out. Once we do, though, your little face lights up, and you say it over and over again, just to make sure we're all on the same page.
For the longest time we didn't know what you were saying during dinner. You'd bend your head down toward your high chair tray, nearly touching it, and say GA-TA-GA-TA-GA-TA-GA-TA-GA-TA.
It would happen during the middle of the meal, so we were surprised when you did it at your grandparents' house after your grandpa said, "Let's say the blessing."
A-HA! You've been saying the blessing!
Why you bend your whole torso over onto your highchair tray, I'll never know. I mean, do we look like we're bobbing for apples when we say the blessing around here? Whatever the reason, it's the funniest thing ever, and of course, just when we figured out what you were doing, you caught on to us and now won't do it spontaneously. You still say the blessing if we ask you to, but it's not the same.
We were at your grandparents' house one other evening this month, and for one reason or another, your grandma was laughing, rather loudly. She has a very distinct laugh and you are captivated by it. If you hear her laughing in the distance, you let us know.
That's right Foster. Grandma is laughing.
Except this particular night as we were all at the table, you called grandma out.
BA-BOO-WA, WOUD! (As in, Grandma is loud!)
Yes, Foster, Grandma laughs loudly, but that's okay. It's good to laugh.
Once we got you home and in the bath, you said it again, BA-BOO-WA, WOUD! And, when we asked you what Grandma says, you began to imitate her high pitch laugh.
Your daddy and I cracked up, so you caught on to that too, and now you even imitate her in front of her. She doesn't mind, though, she's a good sport. Besides, everything with you is either WOUD! or BIG! I think those are your two favorite adjectives right now.
Sometimes you even say that I'm loud. Me, loud? Whatevs.
For the past few months we've had to leave your diaper on until the moment we put you in the bath tub. We learned the hard way, getting peed on a few times. Except, I guess you also caught on to this, because once we started this new routine, your peeing habits changed and you began to wait until after your bath to pee all over the place.
You'd think I'd have learned by now, but noooooooo. After your bath I still let you run around naked, and then scream while frantically searching for the Super Soaker as you stand there peeing on me.
Usually my screams scare you, but the other night, my screams delighted you, and as you were peeing, you began to laugh and then said, "pee-pee!"
Yeah, Foster, thanks for the news flash!
I'm not sure what you like more, big trucks or big trucks. Your daddy and I have been trying to come up with some clever lyrics for an "I Like Big Trucks" song, but this is as far as we've gotten:
I like big trucks and I cannot lie,
you other babies can't deny.
When a truck rolls by,
looking so fly,
and the wheels go round and round,
I get excited.
Wanna drive it.
Take it for a spin,
c'mon lemme in.
I can hear the radio blaring...
Anyway, you like big trucks so much that you talk about EVERY SINGLE ONE as we're driving--on the interstate!
Do you know how many big trucks there are on the interstate? A lot. A LOT!
bi goo-wa! bi goo-wa! bye-bye bi goo-wa. bi goo-wa bye-bye. [2 second pause] bi goo-wa! bi goo-wa!....and on and on you go.
The other day we were all in the car and you were in the back seat saying, mama, dada, mama, dada, mama, dada, over and over again. When finally, I looked back to see you with your fingers in your ears, plugging them.
I don't know where you learned to do that, but it was hilarious. I guess you were experimenting with the sound. Or lack thereof.
Which brings me to another ear experiment. An experiment that your daddy scolded me for, and rightfully so.
You asked me for a Q-Tip, "Mama Q-Tip", meaning one of my Q-Tips. The skinny, dangerous kind. Not the fat, baby kind. And, in an effort to be a laid-back mama, I gave you one.
I was in the bathroom at the time, putting on make-up (really, I was!) and you were in and out of the master bedroom kinda-sorta watching Sesame Street.
After I put on mascara I shimmied in to check on you, only to find you standing in front of the TV, your back to me, with the skinny, dangerous Q-Tip sticking straight out of your ear!
I snickered to myself and then without saying a word, removed it from your ear and threw it away. You didn't like that much, but I simply said, "All done Q-Tip." And now when you ask for "Mama Q-Tip", I explain that mama's Q-Tips aren't for babies and offer you a cotton ball instead.
Foster, I love hearing you talk. It's the new soundtrack of my life. Just today, as you and I were in the car together, you were in the backseat chatting away. Singing, squealing, and narrating whatever you saw or thought.
When we're in the car, I tilt the rear view mirror so that I can see you in the back seat--the twinkle in your eye or your furrowed brow, depending on what you're talking about at the moment. Whatever it is, I don't want to miss it.
Children seldom misquote. In fact, they usually repeat word for word what you shouldn't have said. ~Author Unknown