The moment his butt touched the seat he got older again; he looks cool though, doesn’t he? The day after this shot, Ian and I walked away from his trike and up the sidewalk for a bit… I turned around and pointed at it. “See that? You left that out on the sidewalk where anybody could take it… should we put it back in the garage?” By the time I turned to give him a questioning look, he was darting away and back down the sidewalk, almost breathlessly, his voice lilting with the effort, the human comet was saying “Mine! Mine!!! Cycle!” See this image larger.
In other news:
Also on that Sunday, Ian was standing on the stairs singing to nobody in particular… his mommy upstairs and myself downstairs… and he burst into the alphabet. It went something like this… “A-B-E-E-O-AH-EEEE, AH-E-E-E-AH, (and then, as if he learned the alphabet at that moment, in the middle of the song…) L-M-N-O-P… Q-R-Sth-T-U-V-DOUBLEDU-EXTH-Y-ZEEEEEE.”
Monday March 16th, Ian got his first cat scratch. I know, I know… you’re probably thinking negatively toward Seth. Bad kitty. But if you saw the crap this cat has put up with, without retaliation? You’d put a gold medal on this cat’s neck. As it is, the kitty was dignified and careful about the “lesson.” Ian was in tears holding his hand, but there was only one light line across his skin, that only barely drew blood. I happen to know Seth is capable of carnage on a significantly higher level, as any of our ex-vets would wholeheartedly agree.
A couple phrases Ian is using now… For some reason I showed him how he could rebuild a car of his so that it was small and said “look, a teeny, tiny car.” Teeny tiny is something he says fairly often, in a high pitched voice. He also loves to say recycle. He also loves to recycle paper by putting it in a recycle bin that I made specifically for him in the office. He’s very gung ho about the whole thing — in fact if you were to say, drop a gas bill on the floor, you might have to step on it to stop its immediate progress toward a papery afterlife via teeny tiny hands.
Ian is certainly testing our wills at this point. It is almost as if the word “not” has become “please” in his head. So like “Do NOT put your hands in the trash” becomes a new sentence entirely. I say “almost as if” because the reason I know this isn’t some language issue is that he puts his hand in the trash, mashes it in there up and down, and smiles at me with this “now what are you going to do?” look.
https://outoftheirminds.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/ootmd-logo-dark-wings-3Asset-15.svg00vrbfwhttps://outoftheirminds.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/ootmd-logo-dark-wings-3Asset-15.svgvrbfw2009-03-16 23:21:272009-03-16 23:21:27I Want to Ride my Tricycle… I Want to Ride my Trike…
I don’t have much of an update, mostly because I haven’t had much of anything to record video or audio-wise… and no real photo opportunities have presented themselves (at least none that I was prepared for.)
If I haven’t mentioned it, a week or so ago Melissa swept her finger across Ian’s gums and found his little molars coming in. You can tell by the way he gnaws on his blanket that his mouth is not a happy camper.
Yesterday Ian insisted on watching Elmo while I was trying to show him a video game. (Go Dad.) I asked him which Elmo he wanted to watch; there’s an Elmo movie that we can watch in my office, and episodes on a DVD up in the living room. I couldn’t figure out how to tell him all of this, however, so I tried to come down to what I thought his level would be: “Do you want to watch the Elmo that’s upstairs in the living room? Or the Elmo here?” “Elmo blankie” was his response. See, it turns out in the Elmo movie, he’s got a blanket… so Ian was showing me that his level was higher than I had given him credit for.
Alright… so I titled this entry “Ready!” for a reason. This morning Ian got out the waterproof pad, and threw it on the floor, stacked a clean diaper on top of that. And then he laid down on his back, on top of that pile, spreading his legs slightly and turning to me with a smile. This is almost exactly what I do every time I change his diaper, except that I spread out the pad, and open up the diaper before I set him down. Needless to say, my jaw was on the floor.
I Want to Ride my Tricycle… I Want to Ride my Trike…
Sunday March 15th, Ian got his first Tricycle.
In other news:
Also on that Sunday, Ian was standing on the stairs singing to nobody in particular… his mommy upstairs and myself downstairs… and he burst into the alphabet. It went something like this… “A-B-E-E-O-AH-EEEE, AH-E-E-E-AH, (and then, as if he learned the alphabet at that moment, in the middle of the song…) L-M-N-O-P… Q-R-Sth-T-U-V-DOUBLEDU-EXTH-Y-ZEEEEEE.”
Monday March 16th, Ian got his first cat scratch. I know, I know… you’re probably thinking negatively toward Seth. Bad kitty. But if you saw the crap this cat has put up with, without retaliation? You’d put a gold medal on this cat’s neck. As it is, the kitty was dignified and careful about the “lesson.” Ian was in tears holding his hand, but there was only one light line across his skin, that only barely drew blood. I happen to know Seth is capable of carnage on a significantly higher level, as any of our ex-vets would wholeheartedly agree.
A couple phrases Ian is using now… For some reason I showed him how he could rebuild a car of his so that it was small and said “look, a teeny, tiny car.” Teeny tiny is something he says fairly often, in a high pitched voice. He also loves to say recycle. He also loves to recycle paper by putting it in a recycle bin that I made specifically for him in the office. He’s very gung ho about the whole thing — in fact if you were to say, drop a gas bill on the floor, you might have to step on it to stop its immediate progress toward a papery afterlife via teeny tiny hands.
Ian is certainly testing our wills at this point. It is almost as if the word “not” has become “please” in his head. So like “Do NOT put your hands in the trash” becomes a new sentence entirely. I say “almost as if” because the reason I know this isn’t some language issue is that he puts his hand in the trash, mashes it in there up and down, and smiles at me with this “now what are you going to do?” look.
Happy Birthday Grampa Dafe!
I was a bad son and didn’t call tonight, my apologies… but here’s a special message for Grampa Dafe on his birthday!
Click here to hear Ian wishing Grampa Dafe… a happy… I think he says birthday… He at least says “Hi Grampa!” at one point 😉
Ready!
I don’t have much of an update, mostly because I haven’t had much of anything to record video or audio-wise… and no real photo opportunities have presented themselves (at least none that I was prepared for.)
If I haven’t mentioned it, a week or so ago Melissa swept her finger across Ian’s gums and found his little molars coming in. You can tell by the way he gnaws on his blanket that his mouth is not a happy camper.
Yesterday Ian insisted on watching Elmo while I was trying to show him a video game. (Go Dad.) I asked him which Elmo he wanted to watch; there’s an Elmo movie that we can watch in my office, and episodes on a DVD up in the living room. I couldn’t figure out how to tell him all of this, however, so I tried to come down to what I thought his level would be: “Do you want to watch the Elmo that’s upstairs in the living room? Or the Elmo here?” “Elmo blankie” was his response. See, it turns out in the Elmo movie, he’s got a blanket… so Ian was showing me that his level was higher than I had given him credit for.
Alright… so I titled this entry “Ready!” for a reason. This morning Ian got out the waterproof pad, and threw it on the floor, stacked a clean diaper on top of that. And then he laid down on his back, on top of that pile, spreading his legs slightly and turning to me with a smile. This is almost exactly what I do every time I change his diaper, except that I spread out the pad, and open up the diaper before I set him down. Needless to say, my jaw was on the floor.