The Tossed

If you enter The Pod at any given time, you will find a smattering of toddler-sized toys pining away on the other side of toddler-sized barriers. These toys will beg you for attention, will call out for you to pick them up and restore them to their place in the midst of the other toys, or into some safe harbor of a plastic bin to avoid being tossed into the nether regions of Playland, the dark and lonely swamps, the abandoned territory where Little P does not abide.

In short, Little P has started tossing certain toys out, over, or beyond his playpen, crib, or baby gate.

Every time.

It begins with all toys in or around him. And then for reasons unbeknownst to Mama, he will waddle over to the gate, pitch the toy up and over, grab the gate with both hands and peer over the top, and, once seeing the toy lying forlornly on the floor, turn his back and resume whatever he was doing before.

Mama does not have the pleasure of watching this process in motion when Little P is in the playpen, for she usually places him there to give her time to accomplish something elsewhere, something that prohibits her from keeping an eye on him most minutes. (Let's be honest here, I don't watch him every second, even when we're in the same room. Or in rooms next to each other. I've gotten very good at listening to his movements to determine if I should appear, waving my arms and shouting at him to stop before he hurts himself. Really.)

But Mama does return to the scene eventually where she will invariably find a small plastic sheep atop a blue triangle sadly taking up post three or four feet in the distance, lying on its side stiffly, or the rainstick, having rolled underneath a chair, silently waiting for someone to turn it over and hear its rain sounds.

Mama wonders at the rhyme or reason in Little P's mind. He tends to pitch small farm animals and instruments more often than other toys. On occasion, a rubber train will find itself the recipient of such discrimination. And, as the only toys in his crib are soft and stuffed, the lamb or hippo generally face this disrespect. At the very least, they are grateful to land on the sheepskin rug. Toys tossed elsewhere land on a hard wood or tile floor.

The Mama does not understand. She only waits until the child falls asleep in his bed, when she can restore order amongst the plastic, rubber, cotton, olefin, and synthetic-materialed creatures of the house.

Garbage Day

Thursday is garbage day. This hasn't meant a lot to Little P until today. Today he discovered (noticed for the first time) the trucks. And, oh, how exciting it is because we have THREE trucks that visit us on garbage day - one for the trash, one for the recycling, one for the greens. He saw every one of them and we even went outside to watch the trash get dumped close up.

It's exciting around here, I tell you.

Two in the Bush

We stood in the backyard. From high in the trees came the sharp caws of the shiny, black, winged creatures that demand attention with their confident strut. We could not see their strut at this time, so hidden were they by the leaves.

Benjamin looked from his bike to the sky, his eyes searching.

"Boods," he said, not seeing them, only hearing the cackles.

"That's right, Bug. Birds."

Happy Easter Pictures

We spent Easter afternoon and evening at Grandma's house sniffing flowers and running around in the backyard.

This is Papa's legacy. He taught Little P to raise his fists in the air and cheer like a stadium from a distance: Hhhhhhhhhhhhh! Now, Little P can do this on command.

Watch out for the nutters in the next picture. They're armed and dangerous:

Yight, and other stuff

Little P told me this morning that he was thirsty. Yep. He looked at the Papa and me and said, "Tirsty."

"Thirsty?" I asked. "Did he say thirsty?"

"Yep," replied the Papa. "You better go get him something to drink."

I gave him a sippy cup of water and he guzzled it down.

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In other news, Little P finds "L" somewhat challenging to pronounce. He says "yight" for light and "he-yo" for hello. It's very cute. However, the dog leash is simply "eesh."

He's also very interested in what is "dir-tee". This would include all the fun stuff like greasy bike chains and sandboxes and scuzzy puddles from which one is not allowed to drink. But it also extends to diapers. As we were going to change a very stinky diaper, he announced, "Dir-tee!"

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Little P has mastered the art of going down stairs now. This means he can get down to our front door, and the foyer where the Papa keeps the bike that he rides to and from work. This means that when Mama is not looking, he can get his fingers into a greasy bike chain.

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Mama moved a stool over near the living room window so that he can look out. It's great. When he disappears around a corner, Mama can be assured that he is likely NOT getting in trouble (until the novelty wears off), no, he is probably just standing on the footstool and gazing out on the cul-de-sac below.

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A growth spurt is sure making him cranky these days. But that is countered by the greater amount of time spent sleeping. While he's less fun when he's awake, a Mama sure does appreciate the longer naps. He's getting tall! (I mean, relative to himself.)

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That's all a Mama can think of for the moment. Happy Tuesday!

Allergy Hunt

Little P's digestive system has been a touchy thing from the start. As a first time mom, I don't really know what's "normal", but my suspicians are that his tummy is a smidgen intolerant of certain foods. I'll spare you the details, but I will say that this "difficulty", if you will, is the root of much of his grouchy behavior. He just doesn't feel well.

Enter the hives. Or the red bumps, as I'm not exactly sure what true hives look like. Since we introduced solids, he has gotten these red bump breakouts on his cheeks and abdomen. (Along with all the GI issues.) Mama finally got serious about figuring out the problem.

Strawberries.

Yep. I'm pretty sure it's strawberries. But it might not be limited to strawberries. Sigh. People with an intolerance for the protein found in red strawberries (there is a white variety, did you know?) are often intolerant of the entire Rosaceae family: apricots, almonds, plums, apples, peaches, and pears. Pretty much everything I was feeding him from the farmer's market last summer. Ha! No wonder he was such a mugwump.

So. Now I will have to test these things out on him to see just how far this intolerance goes. Not looking forward to it. Not one bit. But the reason I will try - it seems like applesauce is all right on his tummy. And possibly pears. Peeled. I am pretty sure he reacted to apricots and prunes, though...but they have far more color throughout them, and if that protein is linked to the reddish color, well, we might be fine with green apples.

NOTE: The above photo is of one of my tests. Benjamin is eating almond butter (He's not allergic to peanuts, thank God.) He got full exposure and the results were inconclusive!

Question: Have any of you experienced this form of allergy/intolerance? Do you know if it can be outgrown? Or if anything helps calm the symptoms?

Riddle

Q: What's the similarity between a little boy and a dog?

A: Both get really excited to see Mama putting on shoes. [It means they get to go for an adventure outside!]

Shadowdancer

Sometimes Little P wakes up howling. Sometimes you don't know he's awake until you hear the music box in his crib tinkling away. Or his voice producing some sweet, sing-songy "doo-ya! doo-ya!"

This morning Papa went in to find him dancing in the rays of sunlight that were coming through the cracks in the window shade and watching his shadow on the wall.

Priceless.

A Red Tricycle and a Boy

More Blues (and Greens)

At the time I shot all these blue-green pics, I was thinking that he looked perfect for an organic baby ad. (Yes, even before Aunt Amy mentioned her friend in advertising.)

So, I pulled out some milk and tried to make a fake ad.

The problem is, this kid won't smile for Mama's camera any more.

He won't.

The stinker.

Though he does have a cute serious profile. And he sure does pose well when he decides to sit still. Which he doesn't do very often these days.

Like I said, stinker.

But, Lordy! What a cute stinker.

Ah, this would be the "look away" pose. This is at least fifty percent of my unedited images. Most of them get deleted.

I mean, how many sideways glances does a Mama need?

This is the "run away" pose. This forms the other forty-nine percent of my unedited shots.

If it weren't for digital, most of what you would see is this. I could never, ever afford to spend all that money on film in order to get a face-forward shot with a smile.

Not now.

Four months ago, maybe.

Stinker.

But doggone it, if he isn't the most charming stinker I ever met. Even when he's turning his back to me and taking off his clothes.

You've Been Waiting for This

You may not have realized that you were waiting for this, but now that you see it, you surely understand.

See...the Papa gets creative with gifts. For Christmas 2008, there were two parts to his gift - the first part was the Pajamagram Christmas pajamas he bought for me. The second part was the joy (humor?) of seeing my entire family in Pajamagram Christmas pajamas. Apparently, he had ordered some for the dog as well, but they were out of stock.

On a side note, look how stinkin' little Little P looks!

Feeling Nostalgic for Dem Clevelanders

I've been rearranging media files and in the process revisited some old shots, shots you have not yet seen, dear readers. This little series made me seriously yearn for Dem Clevelanders and all the sunshine they brought to our house.

Here we see Cousin Molly reading. Of course, Cousin Little P is busy acting like a monkey.

Is the fun down there?

Nope.

Hmmmm. Well, is it over there?

Mmmmm. Depends on what you call fun.

Note: Molly's face has not changed one bit.

C'mon, Molly. We're in search of fun here! Are you reading?!

Oh - you have a book for me, too?
Ah. All the fun I need is right here.

Note: Molly's face has still not changed expression. Guess which kid is going to be able to focus when she gets to school?

BenSpeak: March Recap

Here's where we are on the vocab front. One of Little P's favorite things to do is to point at things and have you tell him what they are. Sometimes this is a lot of repetitive pointing and naming. Sometimes he repeats everything.

"cump" - skunk. There is a skunk on a scooter in his alphabet book. He really likes this page right now.

"tee" - teeth. He also likes to brush his teeth while Mama is brushing hers.

"toes" - elongate the "oh" sound - toes. His toes go in his "soos."

"side" - outside. His favorite place these days because that's where he can ride his bike.

"ma-na" - Grandma.

"Bus-doe" - Buster, Grandma's dog.

"pup-eeee" - puppy.

"nigh-nigh" - night, night.

"foe" - phone.

"shir" - shirt.

"bye" - bye.

"ka-ow" - cow. Yesterday, in fact, he was trying to moo like a cow. There was a lot of "mmmmmmmmm" that eventually turned into "mmmmmmmmoooooooooooooooooo."

"het" - hat. He especially likes to point out hats when both he and Mama are wearing one.

"baby" - baby. I don't even know where he learned this, and I suspected for a while that he was just saying it without knowing its meaning. Uh-uh. He knows what he's saying. But we don't really talk about babies!? Grandma's house?

I'm pretty sure there are more, but these are all the newer words that I can recall right now.

Bike Note: Bike seems to refer to many items that have two large wheels including, but not limited to, strollers, walkers, wheelchairs, and scooters.

One Track Mind

You know those seagulls in the Nemo movie? How they fly around squawking "Mine?! Mine? Mine! Mine?!"

Little P is running around the house right this very minute shouting, "Bike?! Bike? Bike! Bike?! Bike!" He has the very same tone in his voice as those pesky seagulls.

Really, it takes all a mama's strength not to laugh sometimes.

And, BTW, he really can say "bike" now. The progression of the past two weeks - kike, baiye, bite, bike.

And, BTW, he determined on his own accord last night that a Harley driving past us on the street was, indeed, a bike.

Nickname