Saturday, June 28, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Monday, June 23, 2008
Anyway, he's pretty excited about wearing underpants, and who could blame him? How stinking cute is this?
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Yes, that's a can of Dora corn in there. How can you resist a character that promotes corn?! So anyway, about a month ago we were getting ready to make a cross country trip to visit my parents, and we decided to get Jackson his own backpack to carry his toys. We took him to Target and Matt picked out two options and I brought Jackson over to let him choose (this, by the way, was our fatal mistake). He was diligently trying to decide which very manly backpack he wanted, when his eyes happend to travel upwards and land on...
...a giant pink Dora backpack! "Dora!" he exclaimed, quickly losing all interest in the manly backpacks. Matt and silently locked eyes. This was a critical moment in our parenting career. We are, after all, psychologists. Of course we don't want to promote gender discrimination and our kid should be who he wants to be, right? I caved in first. "Jackson," I lied, "those backpacks aren't for sale. They're just to look at." "Yes!" Matt shouted with a sigh of relief, "Now how about a nice Diego backpack?" Let the gender stereotyping begin!
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Jackson has a favorite game. It's called the "No Thank You" game. It's not very complicated. Basically it involves him offering you a bite of food. When you open your mouth wide to take the food, he takes it back, stuffs it in his mouth, and gleefully says, "No thank you!" Then he laughs hysterically while you pretend to pout or cry. This is a pretty funny game over all, and generally makes us all laugh. The only problem is that once in a while he decides to be generous and actually gives you a bite of the offered food. This typically involves a piece of already chewed food that has been dipped into something disgusting. Today I opened wide, fully expecting to have an unidentifiable piece of food swiped away, and instead I received a piece of cold soggy waffle covered in chunks of cottage cheese and smeared in banana. I'm still trying to gag back mini-throw ups. I don't think Bobby Flay has anything to worry about.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
"Jackson get your pants on before I count to three or I'm going to help you." Toddlers really really really don't like help. It occurred to me that the poor kid never gets a break. I mean, even an event that's supposed to be fun like going to the beach involves thirty minutes of heavy prompting to get dressed, get downstairs, eat breakfast, put on sunscreen, get in the car, etc. So today I decided that maybe instead of trying to get him to do things on MY time, I should try to slow down and live on Toddler Time for a while...
2:01 Jackson wakes up from his nap. We sit in his chair and read Amazing Airplanes three times. I don't actually have to read it at this point because I have it memorized. It's a long story. I'm fairly certain this is going to impress someone, someday.
2:16 I suggest that we go to the grocery store. This is usually a very exciting opportunity for Jackson because our grocery store gives away free cookies and balloons, and has these horrible car shaped carts for the kids to ride in. Jackson gets very excited and shouts GROCERY STORE! I tell him that we will need to 1) put his shoes on, 2) go downstairs and 3) get in the car.
2:17 Jackson leaps off my lap to look for his shoes, which he brings in my general direction. On his way back he finds a gummy ring that used to light up. He drops his shoes and works intently on getting the ring on. I sit back in his chair and stare blankly out the window, trying to enjoy Toddler Time.
2:25 A scream of rage interrupts my thoughts. Jackson has found his shoes again and is trying to put them on himself. Any attempts at helping are met with an angry "Jackson do it!"
2:27 Shoes are on the floor, and Jackson is now happily playing with his yellow school bus.
2:35 Jackson brings his shoes to me and demands "Mommy do it shoes on grocery store cookie." I first try to decide if this counts as an eight word sentence (I'm pretty sure it doesn't), and then I oblige and try not to notice that it's now been 20 minutes since I suggested going to the store.
2:38 We head downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs Jackson exclaims, "TRACTOR!" in a voice reserved for long lost friends that you run into unexpectedly at Starbucks. The tractor is sitting where he has left it after playing with it before his nap. I try to use deep breathing to decrease my blood pressure and then decide to clean the kitchen while he plays with the tractor. This IS Toddler Time after all.
3:06 My kitchen is sparkling clean and Jackson is still playing with the tractor. I finally ask gently, "Jackson, honey, did you want to go to the grocery store with Mommy?" He jumps up and runs for the door yelling, "Push button!" (AKA 'open the garage door'). As soon as he pushes the button, he squirms out of my arms and makes a beeline....straight out of the garage and into the driveway where he runs around in circles whooping like a teenager at a concert. I think, "Oh my god, it's like this kid has no frontal lobe!" And that's when it hits me. He. Literally. Has. No. Frontal. Lobe. Or at least the one he has isn't working yet AT ALL. I'M supposed to be his frontal lobe. I'M the one that is supposed to keep him on track (insert cheesy trumpet song)!
3:08 "Jackson," I say firmly, "you have ten seconds to get in your car seat or Mommy is going to help you." He runs happily to the car and chants with me, "One...Two...Three..."
Jackson calls this his "green car" and rides it pretty much every day. He thinks it can only be driven on the driveway, so Matt and I relax in lawn chairs while he goes through endless rounds of the "travel game." This fun toddler invention entails him screaming "Bye Bye! Have a good trip! Bon Voyage!"and then scooting around the driveway and then returning and saying "Welcome Back! Have a good trip?" Good times.
In case you are wondering, Matt assuages our guilt at having the World's Best Neighbors by mowing their front lawn. It's the least we can do.
Since we didn't think this was quite what my mother-in-law envisioned, we decided to shamelessly bribe the troops with Popsicles. Unfortunately, getting five children eating Popsicles to focus on anything but the Popsicle turned out to be close to impossible, and Jackson decided that it was much more fun to stand in the wobbly chair and drip on the rest of the kids then to do anything else.
Soooo....here you go Nana! It's not a perfect family, but it's yours!