Archive for June, 2014

Hanging out in bed, the three of us, the Boo in the middle. There might have been an iPad involved — hard to recall now.

The hubs sneezed. Well, not really. Rather, a sound with a thousand pointy edges exploded from his face. Twice, I think.

Rarely have I seen the Boo scramble so quickly.

He didn’t quite cling to me, but he wanted to be very very near me, and not his Daddy. (A rare occurance when both of us are around.) Keep in mind that his pronouns are still mostly reversed as I tell you what he said over and over: “You don’t like that sound.”

Neither do I, Boo. Neither do I.

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You can recognize certain words, most notably “yo,” which was in a recent library book as well as on Mama’s T-shirt:


You have discovered how to slide down the stairs on your belly, feet first.

“Say Hello” by Rachel Isadora was your surprise favorite from our last library run.

You remain obsessed by AC units, which you call fans. You ask to “walk the neighborhood” so you can look at your favorites over and over, requesting to be lifted up to see if they’re spinning.

You love running across open spaces in parks just as much as you enjoy conquering ladders and slides in playgrounds.

You like to throw the afghans and couch pillows onto the living room floor.

You are adept at unscrewing the top of your toothpaste tube. And Grammie’s lotion tube. And anything else with a screw-on lid. This would be a downside of you having a building set.

You recently had your first professional haircut, from a friend of Mama’s who came to the house. You were unsure about her at first, but eventually showed her your favorite cat video and munched chocolate chips while she snipped away. You did not, however, enjoy the sensation of tiny bits of hair on your skin. At all.

You have developed an affinity for Caillou that borders on obsession.

You regularly declare your love for Daddy. You have declared your love for Mama exactly once, during a diaper change.

You know what pill bugs are and like to look for them during walks.

You have begun to (sometimes) announce when you need a diaper change.

You like to see how much taller than you the sunflower plants are.

You do not care for babies grabbing you, but you do allow them to grab you.

You almost never opt to sit in your high chair anymore.

You sometimes hit Mama with your bedtime buddy (or, on one occasion, a toy screwdriver). Usually this happens when you are tired, excited, or craving attention.

You have a pair of scissors, and occasionally like to use them to slice stuff up.

You are learning how to ask kids to share toys at summer camp — in particular, fire trucks and dinosaurs. You have also learned about sand in your shoes. You’re not a fan.

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I'm over 50. I'm raising a fifth grader. Sometimes he posts too.


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