Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Monthly Update: 23

Hi Foster, whatcha doin?

That's what I say to you all the time, so I shouldn't be surprised that your favorite phrase this month was, "Hi Mama, doin?"

(Okay, maybe it was my favorite phrase too!)

Today is the first day of winter, but it has already been extremely cold for a few weeks.  So cold that we had to unpack your winter cap and mittens, a gift from your Great Aunt Nancy.

The cap, a puppy dog head with ears, is adorable on you.  And apparently, you think so too, because you insisted on wearing the ensemble to bed one night!

When your daddy and I went in to check on you, the cap was off, but the mittens were still on.  You looked so cozy lying there in the fetal position with mittens on, that my heart exploded.  It just couldn't handle the cuteness.

I don't normally go in to check on you at night because I literally can't handle the cuteness.  It hurts my heart.

I don't understand it myself, so trying to explain it to your daddy, that it hurts to see you like that, is a lost cause, but trust me, seeing you asleep with mittens on was too much. 

Help me, Rhonda.

Speaking of Rhonda, you love the Beach Boys.  Your Grandpa had to make you a Beach Boys CD because we didn't have one, and more than once this month you asked for the Beach Boys, specifically.

It's funny to me that you can say "Beach Boys", but your word for music is, "huh-huh".


Your cuteness this month was balanced out by your stubbornness.  You don't like being told "no" and this month you challenged us every time. 

If daddy told you no, you'd come running to me, "Dada, no" as in, "Daddy said no, Mama, do something!"

One day you came home from school saying, "Mar-ree, no", as in "Mrs. Margorie said no!"  I asked you what Mrs. Margorie, your teacher, told you no about and you answered, "goos", as in "shoes".

Ah, let me guess...Mrs. Margorie told you not to take your shoes off. 

Well, surprise, surprise.  I mean, it's not like that's the first thing you do when we get you buckled into your car seat, now is it?

Oh wait.  Yes!  It is the first thing you do when we get you buckled into your car seat, and do you have any idea how annoying it is to arrive at our destination in the freezing cold and have to stand outside and put your socks and shoes back on?  Very.  Very annoying.

But, your daddy and I have chosen not to pick this battle.  Because, really, what are our options?

We could yell at you to put your socks and shoes back on, but you can't do that by yourself yet, so that's pointless.

We could yell at you to stop taking them off in the first place, but we don't realize you're even taking them off until we hear the thud on the floorboard and your sweet little voice, "goo off!"

We could pull the car over, take you out of your car seat and spank you, then put your socks and shoes back on, but that seems a little overkill, dontcha think?

We could wait until we arrive at our destination, put your socks and shoes back on and then spank you, but that seems a little too late, dontcha think?

We could torture you with Alanis Morrisette songs on repeat, but what if you actually liked her music, then it would be a little ironic, dontcha think?  (Yeah, I really do think.) 

(Sorry, I couldn't resist.)


You love saying "this way" and "that way".

On the way to school one day, you were in the back seat pointing and saying "that way" and I was driving and saying, "no, we go this way to school" and you kept saying "that way" and I kept saying, "Foster, school is this way", until I finally pointed out the passenger side window and asked, "Foster, what is that way?"  Your answer, "goo-lee-o-lee-oes", as in "trees".  (Duh, mom.)

That's right, buddy, there are trees over there.  In that direction.  That way.

Another day, on the way to school, we stopped next to a police car at a traffic light.  You love police cars, so I rolled your window down and told you to wave to the police man.  You did just that and lo and behold, he rolled his window down and waved back!

Now when we come to that traffic light, you say, "police man hi you!"  Because that's where the policeman said hi to you!

Another thing you like to say while we're in the car is "come on, people!"

I have no idea where you learned that.  *A-hem.*  (As I dart my eyes around the room looking for the perpetrator.)

The potty is still a novelty with you, but this month you actually poo-pooed on it.  Twice!  That's right, you poo-pooed on the potty at the ripe old age of 22 months.  I think you were just as shocked as your daddy and I were, and now every time you sit on the potty, you try to poop, and then hop off to take a look.

We don't make a big deal if there's no pee or poop, we praise you for simply sitting on the potty.  That may be a mistake though, because you've started to use this 'sitting on the potty thing' as a diversion and now when it's time to get dressed or clean up, you all of a sudden want to pee-pee on the potty.

Hairy, your daddy's monkey puppet from childhood, is your new BFF and naturally, we get roped into making him talk.  Constantly.

"Do Hairy", is what you say, and then you laugh hysterically as we make him he talks to you.  I think you think he's real, even though you know our hand is in there.  "Dada hand in there..."

Christmas is in four days and I think you're going to enjoy all the excitement of opening presents and playing with your cousins.

Last Christmas you weren't quite a year old, so it wasn't as exciting for you or us.  This year, though, your daddy and I are very excited for you.  We finally understand what Christmas with children is about.  The children.

Our gift this year is watching you and soaking in every moment.  Oh how I wish I could bottle your sweet round face, your alligator tears, your innocent little voice, the pitter-patter of your feet, and the weight of your body resting on mine as I rock you back to sleep once more.

I know next year will be just as fun, and as much as I look forward to you being a two year old, I also miss my baby.

Say, how would you like a baby brother or sister for Christmas next year? 

Think about it.



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