Friday, February 25, 2011

Photo Friday

Mommy Says:

Did I mention dinner time is awesome? (See below post.) We decided to complicate it even more by introducing Tyson to his big boy booster seat.

The suction cups on the back of the placemat delayed the "BAAAATTTHHH!" screams by at least two minutes. I'd call that successful.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Dealing With a Toddler at Dinner Time is Awesome.

Mommy Says:

Oh, I'm sorry did some of my sarcasm drip on your shirt? Let me get you a napkin. First, I'll have to pick one up for you-seeing as how Tyson has emptied the entire napkin and paper plate drawer on to the floor while I was browning the meat.

While I'm down there, I'll stack the Tupperware bowls back in the cupboard for the 300th time today so that I don't trip on them. Again. Because I already have at least three times.

It's time to take the garlic bread out of the oven? "Yes, Tyson that is hot." "No, Tyson you can't touch it." "No, Tyson you can't throw your ball in the oven!"

Let's dish up! Up? "UP? Momma UP! UP! UPPPPPPPP!" Oh, hi Tyson. Of course I'll pick you up while I try and spoon the piping hot spaghetti onto each plate.

Time to eat. No, seriously it's time to eat. It's not time to sing, or dance, or clap. It's time to EAT.
Why aren't you eating? Last week you loved spaghetti. Remember? Please remember. It's spaghetti, buddy! Nummy! Num-nums! Watch Mommy eat it. No, don't throw it on the
floor. Lola doesn't like spaghetti. You do. Please eat it.

Do you want to try eating with your spoon? No-no, we don't throw our spoon on the floor. Or our spaghetti. Remember?

"Momma? Done. Bath! BATH! BAAAAATHHHH!" "BBBBBAAAAAAAAATTTTTHHHHH!" Ok, buddy, I guess you're done. Let's go get a bath.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Photo Friday

Mommy Says:

An oldie, but a goodie. I heart this picture.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

As Long As I'm Living My Baby You'll Be

Mommy Says:

On your first night with us, I lay awake and listened to make sure you were breathing. Every breath-in and out-was a miracle. I was exhausted, but I couldn't close my eyes. I watched each yawn and stretch in amazement.

When you were little, you would wake us in the middle of the night because you were hungry. One of us would stumble wearily into your room swearing that this phase would never end. We'd feed you your bottle and rock you back to sleep through heavy eyelids. We'd watch for your milk drunk smiles and heavy breathing before putting you back in your crib and throwing ourselves back into bed.

As you got older, you would wake less. You no longer needed the bottle to help you get back to sleep. You needed us. We would rock you, sing to you, and pace your room hoping that you would go back to sleep quickly.

Some nights when the rocking and the singing didn't work, I would crawl into your crib with you. I'd nestle you into my arm and rub your forehead while you settled in. You fell asleep quickly in my arms and I'd lie awake listening to your deep sighs.

As you got older still, you only needed us at night when you were sick. Your raspy little cry could wake me even from a deep sleep. I'd scoop you out of bed and set up camp in the guest room. You'd toss and turn while I rubbed your back and worried that your fever was too high. When you finally fell asleep, I'd lay awake hoping that you'd feel better in the morning.

It's been three months since you've cried out for us in the middle of the night. You just got over a cold and you didn't cry for me once while you were sleeping. I'm well rested, but I miss you. I miss your heavy breathing and deep sighs. I miss your raspy cry and the feeling of rubbing your forehead. I miss the feeling of you cuddled in my arms.

Friday, February 4, 2011

15 Months

Mommy Says:
Dear Tyson,

Today you turn 15 months old. That means that you're officially the cutest and smartest 15 month old that I know. Lucky you!

Except that lately I feel like the lucky one.

Lucky to have an inquisitive, charming, and precocious little 15 month old. Lucky to be the Mommy to the little boy that everyone stops to smile at. Lucky that you blow kisses and wave buh-bye. Lucky that you pet Lola nicely and run to the door to greet me at daycare. Lucky that you are healthy and happy. Lucky that you sleep well and eat even better. Lucky that you have developed your charming little quirks that wake me up smiling and keep me smiling until I go to bed. Lucky that we have a Daddy that loves me as much as he loves you.

Just lucky.

Happy 15 months, little buddy! Thanks for making me feel so lucky. I love you lots!



It's Probably A Fluke

Mommy Says:

In my recent attempts at trying to be a decent parent, I decided it was time to introduce Tyson to the potty. We've had it in his bathroom now for several months, but it's always been overshadowed by the big amazing bath tub that it sits next to. While it was in the bathroom, I tried (in vain) to put Tyson on it. He'd cry and scream "BATH!" over and over. I had visions of him being 14 and bringing me a diaper.
Then, I had the ingenious idea to move it into his bedroom.

You've got to be kidding me. You know I'm only 15 months old, right?

Gross? Maybe, but it's now been getting the attention every potty deserves.

Now, each morning and night, Tyson sits on the potty and we talk about it. "This is where you go poopy when you're a big boy!" "Where is your pee-pee?" "You go pee-pee in the potty when you become a big boy, right?" And each time he's "done" we clap and cheer together.

This is comical. I'm 15 months old and you expect me to pee in this frog. You're crazy lady.

Yes, I realize he's not even 15 months old yet. And, yes, I may be crazy.

Ok crazy lady, I went. Wipe. Oh, and you better not be posting these pictures.

BUT, crazy can sometimes reap rewards. Like this week when Tyson peed in his potty when he wasn't even 15 months old. He was SO proud of himself. There was clapping and cheering and dancing and maybe some tears(from me-not Tyson-see above about being crazy).

It's probably just a fluke, but it was still pretty amazing.

PS: I'm well aware that I'm jinxing any hope we had of Tyson being easy to potty train by coming to the Internet to brag about his recent accomplishment. When he's 4 (or 14), I'll be returning to this post to curse myself for bragging about how great he is.

Photo Friday

Mommy Says:

He's always loved his "ooes." Now, he's finally discovered our shoes. Luckily he's stuck to putting on Daddy's loafers and not Mommy's heels.