Thursday, December 27, 2012

Fifty Months

Dear Peeper:
Today, you are fifty months old. Yeah, I know, it's starting to get a little silly to count by months, but if I'm going to write each month, then I sort of have to, don't I?

I almost missed this one, what with Christmas just being a couple of days ago, but I did manage to remember in time to get a few photos of you with Mr. Panda. I may have bribed you with (yet another) sugar cookie to get you to pose for them.

Of course, this has been a crazy-busy month, with pretty much non-stop Christmasing and festiving and such, which was tiring, but also pretty wonderful.

You really "get" Christmas this year, other than the asking-for-gifts part. Maybe it's because you don't watchTV with commercials, so no one's told you what you want, but it was like pulling teeth to get any ideas or requests from you. Pretty much it just came down to "candy and some surprises" again. Okay, seems easy enough.

You also remember several things that we did last year, so you are starting to have a sense of "tradition" already, which is really cool.

We had a really good time with Christopher the Elf. He didn't get into too much mischief, but you sure did have a good time looking for him every morning, and finding him in lots of silly places.

Other than Christmas, your biggest thing this month is that you've finally had some school drop-offs (and dance class send-ins) with no tears!

The next-to-last week of classes, and one day of the last week, you were completely tear-free, with just a little bit of hesitance on the way in.

Just in time for Christmas break, when you'll be off for three weeks. We'll see how it goes when we go back in January.

And, as usual, you've had lots of fun and funny things to say:

One day you were balancing precariously (planking, perhaps) on the arms of your office chair. You were grunting and grunting and finally dropped down in the seat. "Ugh, I'm glad that's over!"

You were being the Grinch, and :stealing Christmas," which involved putting toys in a bag, and taking them to your workshop.
When I discovered that your workshop was the kitchen floor, just as you walk into the room, I asked you, "Can you please find somewhere else to be the workshop?"
You told me, "But that's the only annoying place I can find!"

You scribbled all over your cheeks and chin with a black dry erase markers. I asked "Who are you?" and you said, "Abraham Lincoln's my name!"

You don't like the name of your school.

"Why do they call it Mother's Day Out? It should be called "Mothers Come Back."

One evening, I was lying on your bed when you were supposed to be getting jammies on, etc. You told me "But, I have to jump in this area, so you get up!"

With some help from Mommy, "Baby Jesus" (your sad, raggedy, naked doll - that's its new name) was crying about needing to go to sleep, and you were is telling him, "Shhh, shhh, stop all that crying, take a deep breath, and listen to me. . . ."

While getting strapped into her carseat, you informed me that "I'm Dasher. Santa only has seven reindeer now, because I'm in the car."
I didn't think much of it until I realized that a>You know that Santa has eight reindeer and 2> You know that 8 - 1 = 7

After dance class one evening: "Mama, you didn't know this, but these tights have holes in them."

You: I'm Joseph
Mama: As in Mary's Joseph?
You: Yes. Mary has a headache. That's why I'm up with Baby Jesus.

You told me that you'd been travelling for three day through Europe, looking for Baby PerfectPup, but still hadn't found her! But you found some rocks (plastic balls) "under the bushes," and moved them so she wouldn't step on them. Then we went to look for Baby PerfectPup. You ran into the door facing, and said, "Oh! Bonked into a tree!" Then threw yourself on the floor and said, "Oh! I fell in the grass!" Then "Oh! Here's a clue!" (picked up a glove) "Here's one of her fur paws!"


"Refrigerator, will you hold this for me? . . . There's no room in you!"

Overheard from the kitchen:
Mommy: All you've eaten today is crap.
You: What is crap?
Mommy: Poop.
You: No, it's not!

We were talking about the dreamcatcher that hangs by your bed, and what "some people believe" it does - stop the bad dreams and let the good dreams come through. Later, out of the blue, you asked, "What is a bad dream, anyway?"

So I told you it was if you dream about something that's a bummer. I don't remember the example you came up with but it was something incredibly minor. I went with it. "Yep, that's exactly what a bad dream is!"

You were just out of the tub, running around in jammie pants only. "I'm SO COLD! My tummy is saying 'Brrr! Get me the top, please! Get me the top!'"

Overheard from the bathtub: "Oh, the lifeguard is a saver in your neighborhood!"

You are so sweet. If we get hurt (like, say, touching a hot pan, like I did while baking cookies the other day), you say, "Take my hand. Come with me," and lead us to the freezer to get an ice pack.

You: I have to do my job!
Mama: What's your job?
You: My job is to write.
Mama: What are you writing?
You: I'm writing the Declaration of Independence for Abe Lincoln!

Did Mommy wash your hair?
Your booty? Yeah! Your toes? Yeah! Your elbows? Yeah!
Your forearms?
I don't have four arms! I have two arms!

"If you put on some pants that a scarecrow wore, you would be itchy!"

You: Polar Bear dot com!
Mama: Polar Bear dot com?!
You: Yep, that's my name, and dot com's my game!

You asked me for some water, and I told you I'd get it after we discussed your Sonic order. After getting that nailed down, you asked me, "Now will you get me water, so I don't have to sit here thirsty while you're gone?
I went to get it, and Mommy said, "So you want water?" and you said, "Mama's going to get it, don't worry, Mommy."
Mommy walked into the kitchen anyway, and you came running in after her, saying, "No! I'm not thirsty enough for two!"

Last week, you asked me to "Place me atop" the potty.
Of course, I've repeated it several times, so it's stuck.

Mommy gave you some Mini M&Ms, but they were a bust. The problem, it seems is that "they're too little and too sugary!"

I've long held that the taste difference between mini and full-size M&Ms is due to the difference in the chocolate : candy coating ratio. I guess that's been confirmed.

You've discovered Charlie and Lola and have been watching them non-stop for days. You're starting to speak with a British accent.

When you opened your Christmas card from me and Mommy, you looked at the picture on the front and said, "Oh, how sweet! A reindeer!"

And you're pretty sweet yourself, kiddo.

Merry Christmas, Happy Month-Day and a very, very Happy New Year to us all.

I love you.


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