It's Come to This

Regarding breakfast, it's come to this:

I bought sausage and a can of biscuits a few weeks ago at the grocery store. Last week, I managed to open the biscuits and put them in the oven and throw chunks of misshapen sausage in a skillet to (slightly over-) cook before my husband left for work that morning. Imagine my horror when he was overjoyed about the cuisine before him. He talked about it for days. Think he is tired of scrambled eggs with toast every morning?

Regarding Spencer's language acquisition, it's come to this:

My sister is out of school for the semester. Actually, she is out of college for good, but her graduate level classes start in January. (I want to give her credit where credit it due) More importantly, she is spoiling me by helping out with Spencer a day or so a week so that I can do a load of dishes or possibly even put up the Christmas tree. She recently informed me that Spencer could tell you what the cow says. I knew he could tell you what the dog says. He pants--I think because he can't figure out how to "bark" or "woof." It's hilarious either way. So, I asked him what the cow says, and he looked at me with his lips pushed together and said "mmmmmmmmmm." He can't "moo," but exhaustive testing has shown that he does in fact know what the cow says.

This just goes to show that even though you may stay home with your child all day and (almost) every day, other people still notice things about them that you do not. I do think he was showing off for his aunt, because I am fairly certain he has never "mmmm"-ed for me. I do attempt to keep track of these sorts of things. I'm sure his future siblings will have to get an air horn to alert me to their milestones because I will be too busy making sure Spencer is not jumping off the roof or convincing one of them to do the same.

Regarding non-negotiable discipline issues it's come to this:

Into the category of "things I swore to myself I would never do once I had a child that I now do without shame" goes letting Spencer pull everything out of my wallet...in public. The need for distraction is much greater when we are out and about! Target is the main place he enjoys a foray into "ridiculous things parents let their children do in public." I knew this was not going to end well. I pictured a credit card statement with multiple charges we would have to contest. Instead, I noticed that my visa was missing a couple of days after having used it for our co-pay at the pediatrician's office. After scouring the house, my purse, my car, and the diaper bag, I swallowed my pride and texted my husband to ask if he knew where it was. He did not.

I have a feeling it is in the dump somewhere. Oftentimes, when we are wrapping up our shopping, I grab all miscellany that Spencer has pulled out of the diaper bag and cram it into one of the sacks. Then, as Spencer plays happily while I put things away at home (insert smirk here), I put things back in their rightful place. So, I think I overlooked it and tossed it out. That or someone found it and waited too long to use it. Either way, I've learned my lesson. While Spencer played with my wallet today, I paid much closer attention.


Happy Birthday to Nana!

Spencer's Nana turned 60 yesterday, and we surprised her at her school. I'm not sure if Spencer or Sherry had more fun. He loved the balloons we took her. He enjoyed running like a wild man through her library, and he had lunch with her in the teachers' lounge where he promptly located the youngest teacher and began to shamelessly flirt with her. He eventually lured the young (and attractive) teacher from her chair and convinced her to chase and tickle him as he wallowed all over the floor and giggled. He was strutting with a little more confidence than usual because he was sporting one of his new birthday outfits.

He was most certainly Nana's show and tell. I think he saw every person who is currently employed at the school. Not surprisingly, his favorite "class" was definitely the PE room. He fussed at me until I retrieved the specific color basketball he had his eye on from the huge metal bin. When he began gesturing towards the basketballs, I grabbed an orange one off of the top. (O, ridiculous woman that I am) He continued to gesture and then went on to "vocalize" loudly until I handed him the purple basketball that he had his eye on. What was I thinking?



Thanksgiving did not turn out as I had expected it to turn out. And that's fine. Spencer did not feel well, I came down with the flu, and Jonathan had to be Mom and Dad for almost 3 days straight. I'm so blessed to have a husband who is just as attached and connected to Spencer as I am. They did great together. I think the whole thing was hardest on me.

I had one plan for Thanksgiving. At both of our families' gatherings, I was going to change Spencer into a turkey costume that I found at Babys'rus (it was on clearance for $4.74 with tax and I just couldn't pass it up). I was then going to have him saunter out to the living room and delight everyone. I also wanted to take him to his great grandmother's assisted living home to see her and her friends. I figured they'd love it. Instead I stayed home in bed and other people attempted to dress him up for me, but he doesn't love costumes when he feels good, so, he spent a combined 4 minutes in it.

Luckily for you, all of posterity, and Spencer's future wife, I took some pix at home a few weeks before Thanksgiving when I tried the costume on him for size.

Without further ado,


Spencer Is 1!

Little Spencer, you are 1 year old! What a joy you are to know and love. It's not just me who thinks so. You are the little boy who gets everyone's attention wherever we are, and it's usually the good kind of attention. People say, "What a HAPPY baby" and "He's too pretty to be a boy" and "Is he walking? How old is he?" Some also comment on your gorgeous blue eyes and your blonde hair that is curling up in the back. But, mainly they focus on your sweet, playful smile that you flash as you wave your hand to say "hi" to all patrons of Target, Kroger, or wherever else we happen to be that day. You certainly are a people person. You are adored both publicly and privately and have come to expect it as the usual course of things.

Your Gigi insists that you can always teach other things like humility and delayed gratification when you are older but that if you miss instilling the knowledge that you have power to manipulate the world around you and that people like and love you, it's very hard to put that in later. As in most things, I think she is right. And you have definitely internalized these life principles.

You love to rough house, run, be tickled, jump onto soft things, and dance to music. You have finally decided to pay attention to steps instead of just walking on like they are of no consequence to you. You now slow down and hold on to something to go up or down a step. Well, sometimes. A few days ago you finally got your foot up onto your "toy table." You had been getting your knee up for quite some time, but you really needed a foothold to be able to stand on it. Mission accomplished.

You are really into pushing buttons right now. It appears to be the thrill of cause and effect (and it usually involves music). You want to be in on whatever I am doing. You FINALLY enjoy your baths. You dump cup after cup of water on your head and then get a huge smile on your face. You seem to be concentrating on some fine motor skills lately (you certainly have the gross motor stuff down for now). You can take the credit cards out of all the different slots in my wallet, and you can take the battery panel off of the remote control.

You were sick a couple of weeks ago, and you learned how to stand there and stick out your nose when I say, "Let me wipe your nose." You also sit down immediately when I say it if you think we are getting you ready to go somewhere. So, now you have given yourself away. You automatically run the other way when I say I am going to change your diaper.

Your seemingly new sleep schedule involves waking up between 3 am and 5 am screaming. Your dad gives you a bottle and then, instead of being up and at 'em, you go back to sleep. Then you sleep until 6 or 7 and sometimes later! Then, naps seem to be of no importance to you. You refuse them at the old, regular times and you refuse them at later, adjusted times and by the end of the day you are exhausted. You run into everything with your head, you fall, etc. I'm working on getting a new groove, but we've hosted many a virus in our house this past month and we are all worn out.

You are such a precious baby boy.

ps--pix and movies from the birthday party to come