Posts Tagged ‘ toddler ’

Donkey Stickers And A Spatula… Because That’s Normal

Saturday, July 13th, 2013

2 years, 7 months.

Dear Jack,

At first glance, this picture of you from yesterday morning doesn’t seem all that out of the ordinary.

There’s nothing atypical about a little boy holding snacks in a plastic baggie in one hand and his pal Scout in the other.

But when you look closer, you’ll see that you’re also holding a black spatula and have a Band-Aid on your arm.

Actually, you have a Band-Aid on both of your arms, though you have no injuries.

You call them your “donkey stickers.”

Let me explain…

The night before, just as I was about to officially tuck you in and leave your bedroom, you had a special request for me:

“Daddy, I need my donkey stickers!” You pointed to the bathroom.

It’s sort of a blur, but I was miraculously able to figure out that you were asking for Toy Story Band-Aids, featuring Bullseye, who you think is a donkey instead of a horse. You wanted a “donkey sticker” for each of your forearms.

Sure enough, you fell asleep within like three minutes after you got your wish.

So yesterday morning, as I was making sure I was getting you out the door in time, I noticed you were holding a spatula in your hand. (I later asked Mommy how you ended up with it, and she simply responded with a subtle smile, “Jack asked for it.”)

You wanted to take it with you in the car, so I let you. After all, you’ve done much weirder things.

Granted, your daycare director wasn’t so thrilled to see you walk in the door with a spatula, explaining to me that it could be used as a weapon.

“Well, actually, I’m taking the spatula back with me when I leave here in a minute…”.

Yeah, that’s a pretty random thing for one adult to have to say to another.

You were so excited to see your spatula again at the end of the day. You didn’t let go of it for the entire car ride home.

While still wearing your donkey stickers, of course.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

 

 

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All Kids Go Through An “I’m A Lizard” Phase, Right?

Tuesday, July 9th, 2013

2 years, 7 months.

Dear Jack,

I imagine that throughout your childhood, you will encounter various phases, which I look forward to the privilege of witnessing.

This one you’re in now, though… well, it’s pretty weird. In fact, I figure I might as well document it now before it’s gone.

You love pretending to be a lizard; especially when you see people you know.

My friend Jason was flying in from Houston and we were texting about seeing each other over the weekend.

I texted him: “Jack will like it if you make a lizard face when you see him- that’s his new thing these days.”

He replied: “I’m going to need a sample pic so I know what to do.”

I answered him: “Basically just pretend you’re slowly licking peanut butter off your upper lip.”

You were impressed.

The thing is, I’m not sure where this lizard phase of yours is coming from.

I wanted to tag it on your best friend Sophie, but I could just as easily see you being the one to introduce “lizardry” to her.

Here’s a clip of you two pretending to be lizards in the wagon:

What’s really interesting is, for a few months now, you’ve owned a headless dragon t-shirt that you’ve never worn until this week. Once I saw you in it for the first time, it was almost prophetic.

After all, a little boy who is now greeting people with his lizard impression should definitely be wearing a t-shirt that makes it look like his head belongs to the body of a dragon… which is sort of like a lizard.

In fact, you like this shirt so much now, that after you wore it to school on Monday, then slept in it that night, you asked to wear it again both Tuesday and Wednesday.

So, yeah.

I’m assuming all kids go through an “I’m a lizard” phrase, right?

Probably not.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

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The Never Ending Dinner: No Appetite For Bed Time

Wednesday, July 3rd, 2013

2 years, 7 months.

Dear Jack,

Last week I told how you’ve recently been requesting to be in trouble so you could be in time-out instead of getting dressed in the morning.

Well, you have been extending that same clever line of thought in regards to bed time too.

Like tonight, for example.

After having already eaten your mac and cheese Mommy made for you especially, you waited until right before your “pre-bedtime playtime” was almost over until you decided that you wanted some more food… whatever Mommy and Daddy were having.

Tonight, it was veggie burritos. And honestly, they were a bit on the spicy side.

However, that didn’t stop you.

It was “Operation: Stall Dinner By Stuffing My Face” and you weren’t going to let anything get in your way… as long as Mommy and Daddy let you get away with it.

Which we did.

Since both of us are off of work for July 4th and you’re not having school, Mommy and I perhaps were a little bit in “whatever works” mode.

So we let you eat a semi-spicy burrito. Then, since you were still hungry/pretending to be, you took your time also downloading a Gogo Squeez applesauce pouch.

After that, I watched you drink a cup of water slower than I’ve ever seen you drink.

Actually, I was starting to wonder if you were pretending to be at the dentist, as you slothfully swished the water around in your mouth before finally swallowing it.

Son, I was quite impressed by your skills tonight. You did a great job making it look like you hadn’t already just eaten one dinner before having a second one.

Just be lucky we like you so much.

We could have sent you to bed without your 2nd dinner. Oh wait, that’s not how the saying goes…

 

Love,

Daddy 

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Mr. Trololo Vs. My Son’s Own Random Singing

Tuesday, June 25th, 2013

2 years, 7 months.

Dear Jack,

You do so some pretty random stuff; so much so, that “random” is as good as “normal” these days.

Why did you run around the house for 45 minutes wearing Mommy’s pink Aeropostale hoodie?

I have no idea, but it definitely counted as a fairly safe and enjoyable activity on a Saturday afternoon. So Mommy and I just let you go crazy.

But it doesn’t take you being in “Tasmanian Devil” mode to be random. In fact, some of your finest work takes place in the car, while you’re strapped securely in your seat for an hour at a time.

While you do share my same appreciation for The Wallflowers’ Bringing Down The Horse as one of the finest albums ever recorded, you also enjoy taking the stage and the mic, as well.

I need to point out that virtually all lyrics that you sing/write are to the tune of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,” in the highest key possible, without going falsetto:

“That blue dinosaur sneezed on the tree… it was the tree that the green dinosaur ate. Hey, there’s worms. The rain washed that spider and the kitty watched…”.

So being that you like to sing random songs you make up as you going along, Mommy and I figured we should share our newest obsession with you, Mr. Trololo:

Needless to say, Mr. Trololo is now the mutual ringtone that Mommy and I have for each other, as well as the song we use for our alarms in the morning.

There’s just something about that whimsical Russian man that makes the world a better place. As for your own reaction to Mommy and I singing Mr. Trololo’s song to you, in somewhat of an effort to playfully annoy you, we love hearing your hilarious response:

“Don’t sing it, you guys!”

It feels good to be the kid every once in a while.

Love,

Daddy

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Decoding My Child’s Version Of The English Language

Saturday, June 15th, 2013

2 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

One of the most noteworthy things about seeing you grow up right now, in this phase of your life, is the way you’re experimenting with your speaking abilities.

We’ve been taking advantage of our family zoo pass by going every single weekend since we bought it about a month ago. In the process, I learned what a hot potato is.

“Look at that hot potato!” you would exclaim, referring to the climbable statue in the zoo’s playground.

I realized that in your version of the English language, a hippopotamus is a hot potato.

My mind went back to the year 1988 as you preceded to “feed” the “hot potato” some mulch.

Apparently, I was witnessing the live version of the board game “Hungry, Hungry Hippos.”

Of course, “hot potatoes” aren’t the only thing I have to remember to immediately translate in my mind.

When Mommy makes you Annie’s Homegrown macaroni and cheese for dinner, you always ask her to put “black cheese” on it.

Any guesses as to what that means?

Pepper. Black pepper is “black cheese.”

One of my favorite phrases of yours is a “regular bar.”

We have so many different types of organic fruit strip snacks we keep in the pantry, that’s how you have been identifying and differentiating fig bars.

Somehow the fact they have a whole wheat coating around them makes them “regular.”

“Mommy, I have a regular bar?” That’s the kind of thing I would overhear you ask Mommy.

Finally, I had to finally ask Mommy what that meant.

She explained they are the Nature’s Bakery brand (non-GMO verified) version of Fig Newtons.

So there you have it…

Hot potatoes are hippopotamuses.

Black cheese is black pepper.

And regular bars are fig bars.

It has just now occurred to me that really, only Mommy and I understand your version of the English language.

Even then, we’re still decoding what you say every day.

 

Love,

Daddy

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