So... I picked up a miniature Stein (German beer mug with a lid...) just the size of one of Hank's tea cups. It goes everywhere with her! It's kind of her 'to-go' tea cup. And boy, does she make a tasty pretend "red tea" to put in it!!
My dad very nonchalontly asked her for a sip of her beer, and I told Ian about it and it gave us a giggle. (Think before you speak, Susie!)
Ian took it and ran with it. (Think before you speak, Ian!)
...Around Clark. Who, being the Daddy-adoring, impressionable, everything SHOUTING little all-boy he is, has copied it even more loudly and more abnoxiously all day.
Word of the day: BEER!
Maturity level at my house: all time low.
What's worse is, being the lovely little lady Hank is, she now wants nothing to do with her beloved Stein. I miss all those sips of pretend tea she'd run by as a pick-me-up and I miss watching her chubby little two-year-old legs run to "refill" it.
How's a Mama to fix this!? Perhaps I will go make some real red tea for her to fill it with?
Clark has thankfully lost all interest in talking about beer since he just found a dead bumble bee and will be busy telling me all about it's glorious dead-ness for the next hour or so. I like this part of having a little boy. Dead bugs ARE pretty interesting. Unless you happen to be the one that squashed it into it's current gooey state of death and are planning on coming inside with bug guts on your shoes. Then it's back to just being mommy of a little boy! ...who says "DEAD!" about as loudly as he does "BEER!" Maybe instead of writing a blog, I should go write a nice little note to our neighbors about how much I appreciate them still being nice to us in the front yard after having to listen to us in the back yard!
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Ian's Baby
For anyone who may have missed it, we're expecting again. And made a baby in August. Again. So we're due in May... again. This time it's May 1st though, so even though I've never rooted for my babies to go all the way to their due date, here's to hoping we hold out till then. (toasts with water for hydration purposes.) That way I can just buy them all one present to share and celebrate all their birthdays together. Won't they just love that? :)
Well... I was kind of worried about how Ian would take it. I mean, we. were. done. Very happily done. Two was perfect! And we've both been very vocal about that.
He took it like a champ! He was thrilled! He adores his baby and immediately told the kids all about it, named it, and grounded it to it's womb.
And then I found out why he found the little thing so endearing. It gives him an excuse to get back to his all time favorite joking material: Pregnant me. He has it down to an art form now. I am going to need psychiatric help by the time we're done with this one.
My favorite Ian/baby moments so far:
>He has given me his favorite Broncos cup to hydrate from. ...so his child will be a fan. And regularly goes and fills it. And has already had a long talk with baby about Broncos: good. Raiders, Chiefs and Chargers: bad. Cry when you see their logos. Get gassy if that's what you have to do to smile when you see the Broncos.
>He has stopped calling me Susie and is sticking to some derivitive of 'fatso.' and has told me he can't carry me anymore because I'm massive. Snatched a donut and told me I shouldn't eat it in my condition... "fat." I still weigh 110. There is coming a day this will NOT be funny.
>He will say something to the effect of "I just wanna hug/say hi to my baby." If I lead with the belly, he says "Not you... Your mother!" If I smile and get all sweet, he says "eww! I don't want to talk to you! Hi Kiddo!"
>I melt when he walks in the door and says "Hi babes," sticks his hand on my tummy and gives me a smooch. Of course, I'm not a big fan of him going "why look at that! You're showing already!" At least he laughs afterwards when I smack him and insist I'm not, so I think he's joking. Good grief, I hope he's joking!!!
>Wanting a big, fat, muscley baby, he is pretty insistent that I wean from caffeine. But I had a little headache and really needed a cup this morning, so he volunteered to make it for me. I put one drop of cream in and my whole beloved cup-o-joe turned white. hmm. Coffee Sabateur!
>I asked if he was really happy and really okay with it, and he spent the entire day text messaging me all the ways he was okay with it. Like "I was really going to be bummed when you weren't changing diapers every time I called. I'm so happy I can count on that happening for a couple more years!," "hey! You still have a great big bag of fat-clothes for goodwill that will fit you again really soon!" and "so... does this mean you'll start cooking again?"
Yep! I'll start cooking again. This Tuesday, I'm going to tell him I'm making him his very favorite homemade pepperoni pizza with his favorite crust. And I will. But I will put exactly ONE pepperoni on it and tell him thanks for the "coffee!"
Well... I was kind of worried about how Ian would take it. I mean, we. were. done. Very happily done. Two was perfect! And we've both been very vocal about that.
He took it like a champ! He was thrilled! He adores his baby and immediately told the kids all about it, named it, and grounded it to it's womb.
And then I found out why he found the little thing so endearing. It gives him an excuse to get back to his all time favorite joking material: Pregnant me. He has it down to an art form now. I am going to need psychiatric help by the time we're done with this one.
My favorite Ian/baby moments so far:
>He has given me his favorite Broncos cup to hydrate from. ...so his child will be a fan. And regularly goes and fills it. And has already had a long talk with baby about Broncos: good. Raiders, Chiefs and Chargers: bad. Cry when you see their logos. Get gassy if that's what you have to do to smile when you see the Broncos.
>He has stopped calling me Susie and is sticking to some derivitive of 'fatso.' and has told me he can't carry me anymore because I'm massive. Snatched a donut and told me I shouldn't eat it in my condition... "fat." I still weigh 110. There is coming a day this will NOT be funny.
>He will say something to the effect of "I just wanna hug/say hi to my baby." If I lead with the belly, he says "Not you... Your mother!" If I smile and get all sweet, he says "eww! I don't want to talk to you! Hi Kiddo!"
>I melt when he walks in the door and says "Hi babes," sticks his hand on my tummy and gives me a smooch. Of course, I'm not a big fan of him going "why look at that! You're showing already!" At least he laughs afterwards when I smack him and insist I'm not, so I think he's joking. Good grief, I hope he's joking!!!
>Wanting a big, fat, muscley baby, he is pretty insistent that I wean from caffeine. But I had a little headache and really needed a cup this morning, so he volunteered to make it for me. I put one drop of cream in and my whole beloved cup-o-joe turned white. hmm. Coffee Sabateur!
>I asked if he was really happy and really okay with it, and he spent the entire day text messaging me all the ways he was okay with it. Like "I was really going to be bummed when you weren't changing diapers every time I called. I'm so happy I can count on that happening for a couple more years!," "hey! You still have a great big bag of fat-clothes for goodwill that will fit you again really soon!" and "so... does this mean you'll start cooking again?"
Yep! I'll start cooking again. This Tuesday, I'm going to tell him I'm making him his very favorite homemade pepperoni pizza with his favorite crust. And I will. But I will put exactly ONE pepperoni on it and tell him thanks for the "coffee!"
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