Gametes In Love

No, hell has not frozen over (not yet at least), but I did manage to find snow about an hour away from our home. Yeah it was manufactured, and yeah the “playground patch” was about the size of my kitchen, but hey I’m glad we went. G on the other hand? Not so much. He was by no means impressed by the “white cold stuff”. He had no desire to touch it, play in it or interact in any way. He just sat there giving me the “can we go yet?” look. Shouldn’t he be a little young for that expression?

Have you ever listened to the lyrics of children’s songs? No, I mean REALLY listened to them? There are many that are really fun and cute, and then there are some that make you want to go “Hmn!”

Let’s take this one for example: “There’s a hole in the bucket”

There’s a hole in the bucket,
Dear Liza, dear Liza
There’s a hole in the bucket,
Dear Liza, there’s a hole.

Then fix it, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
Then fix it, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, fix it.

With what shall I fix it,
Dear Liza, dear Liza?
With what shall I fix it,
Dear Liza, with what?

With a straw, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
With a straw, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, with a straw.

But the straw is too long,
Dear Liza, dear Liza
But the straw is too long,
Dear Liza, too long

Then cut it, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
Then cut it, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, cut it.

With what shall I cut it,
Dear Liza, dear Liza?
With what shall I cut it,
Dear Liza, with what?

With an axe, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
With an axe, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, an axe.

The axe is too dull,
Dear Liza, dear Liza
The axe is too dull,
Dear Liza, too dull

Then sharpen it, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
Then sharpen it, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, sharpen it.

With what shall I sharpen it,
Dear Liza, dear Liza?
With what shall I sharpen it,
Dear Liza, with what?

With a stone, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
With a stone, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, a stone.

The stone is too dry,
Dear Liza, dear Liza
The stone is too dry,
Dear Liza, too dry

Then wet it, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
Then wet it, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, wet it.

With what shall I wet it,
Dear Liza, dear Liza?
With what shall I wet it,
Dear Liza, with what?

With water, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
With water, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, with water.

How shall I get it,
Dear Liza, dear Liza,
How shall I get it,
Dear Liza, how shall I?

In the bucket, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
In the bucket, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, in the bucket.

There’s a hole in the bucket,
Dear Liza, dear Liza
There’s a hole in the bucket,
Dear Liza, there’s a hole.

You know what I wanted to do after hearing this? Add another couplet. It goes something like this:

You’re an idiot, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
You’re an idiot, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, an idiot.

I mean, seriously. Two things strike me about this little ditty: 1) Henry is lazy as all hell; 2) He ain’t all that bright. Obviously he doesn’t want to fix the darn thing, so just fess up an move on. And that Liza is obviously a very patient woman, because if I had to deal with the bum that is Henry he’s be wearing the bucket by the end of that conversation.

Next up, “Five Little Monkeys”. I had the privilege of getting this stuck in my head yesterday.

Five little monkeys jumping on the bed
One fell off and bumped his head
So Momma called the doctor and the doctor said
No more monkeys jumping on the bed!

Four little monkeys jumping on the bed
One fell off and bumped his head
So Momma called the doctor and the doctor said
No more monkeys jumping on the bed!

Three little monkeys jumping on the bed
One fell off and bumped his head
So Momma called the doctor and the doctor said
No more monkeys jumping on the bed!

Two little monkeys jumping on the bed
One fell off and bumped his head
So Momma called the doctor and the doctor said
No more monkeys jumping on the bed!

One little monkey jumping on the bed
He fell off and bumped his head
So Momma called the doctor and the doctor said
No more monkeys jumping on the bed!

No little monkeys jumping on the bed
None fell off and bumped his head
So Momma called the doctor and the doctor said
Put those monkeys back in bed!

While I really do love this song, you gotta wonder: when does CPS get called in on the mom? All 5 of her kids have concussions from the same activity and the doctor told her 5 times to not let them do that. Following the rules of our society,verses 3-6 would dissapear and the last verse would end-up changed to:

No little monkeys jumping on the bed
CPS came and took them instead
Momma called the doctor and the doctor said
I told ya’ not to let them bounce on the bed!

I think I need to release my own CD. What do you think?

I really don’t mean to be a Grinch this year, but it seems like there are a lot of Christmasy-type things that I’m planning on skipping this holiday season.

Prime one? No tree!

That’s right, you heard me. I love Christmas trees! Ever since I was a wee one, I couldn’t wait to get a tree home and decorate it. It killed me when we were in our SF loft not to have one all those years. Yet, this year, I’m standing on the forefront of the “no tree” line. I have 2 primary reasons for it: 1) G; 2) Neko

For starters, G is REALLY into climbing right now. He’s even trying to climb up our safety gates! He started army crawling under them to get into places he shouldn’t, so I lowered them to keep him noggin from getting through. His new approach? If you can’t go under, try climbing over! There’s just no winning here! I really don’t need a tree climber this year, and I don’t want to devise tree mounts to our walls to keep it from toppling over.

Second, Neko is now perpetually being tormented by G. G sees kitty and goes full force after him (maniacally laughing all the way, mind you). Neko, in self-preservation, keeps running away. A tree just spells trouble with this relationship. I can just see it now: G goes after Neko; Neko goes under the tree; G continues in pursuit; Neko decides to climb; tree falls over. Yeah, I might be dramatic, but no thanx!

Next up: no Santa photos.

No, this is not related to my “No Santa gifts!” rant. Yeah, they’re quaint, and kinda cute, but here’s the deal: right now, G has a thing about guys with facial hair. And when I say “a thing”, I mean, screams his bloody head off. Even with people he knows like my dad. So, the idea of standing in a long line with a squirmy toddler and pay money for a generic mall photo only to have G go off screaming is not my idea of a good time. Especially not one I’d like to commemorate in print. I hope next year though!

Third: Shopping.

Is it me, or has shopping hysteria reached new highs recently? Maybe in my adult state I’m noticing it more, but the lines wrapping around buildings and stores is becoming a real turn-off for me. You’d think with our economic outlook still being grim, things would be calmer, but it feels like the opposite. I mean a line around the store for a Zhu Zhu Gerbil? Really?
Oh internet! I puffy heart your calm, patient, open 24-hours, 7-days a week principles. What would I do without you?

I don’t mean to skip out on Christmas this year. I’m really trying to not to, but I’m not quite in the spirit just yet. I think I need some hot chocolate, holiday music, a trip out to see some good lighting and some chilly weather to nip at my nose. Oh, and a vacation. Until then, grumble, grumble, grumble…

Yey, my most favorite pieces finally came off the wall. The top two I think are his best to date.

This next one is a “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell piece”: don’t ask me what it is, ‘cuz I can’t tell ya’… but I think it has something to do with turkey

In the section of our living room that is G’s play area we have two ottomans we got from Target a few months back. They help us contain his toys, so that our living space didn’t appear to be 100% invaded by a 2.5′ munchkin. Also, extra seating space is never a bad thing. Well, it appears that G has found a new function for them: hiding spot.

Yesterday evening, while G and I were waiting on S to get home, I observed him carelessly tossing the contents from one of the ottomans out onto the floor. Little did I know, he was making room… for himself to climb in. And climb in he did. He played in that thing for awhile too, enjoying every moment of it. I sat there thinking “What are the chances he’ll sit in there long enough for me to take a picture?” Well, apparently he did.

The fun part of this was me fiddling with the camera so I could take a decent photo. It was too dark, so I had to play with the settings. Still too blurry. I ran across the hall to to turn on more light, still too blurry. I got out my external flash. Blurry again! Then I gave in and just turned my camera onto Manual mode, with the flash still attached and finally success. In all this scrambling I was thinking “He’s so gonna get tired of this and move on and I won’t have proof for his dad!” Well, apparently I was wrong.

Oh, and in case you’re curious this is how he got out. While he gracefully stepped over the ledge to get in, he went head-first to get out. Never a dull moment, I say.

G is now 15 months old! The last month brought us an important milestone: walking!

When G started walking he had two very defined styles: the zombie walk, where he walked with both hands raised out in front of him; and the sprinkler walk, where one arm was stretched out in front and the other behind his ear bent at the elbow. Man, do I wish I had pictures and video. Sadly, never fast enough to catch them.

G has discovered Neko and follows him around the house. Neko on the other hand wants nothing to do with the loud, drunken-sailor-walking biped and runs away, hisses and growls. Some day they’ll be friends… right?

Although he still has but 3 (recognizable) words, he chatters all the time. I feel like he’s truly having a conversation with us, just not in a language we can understand. His comprehension feels pretty good though, as I can say “G, go get the monkey/ball/whatever” and he brings me my desired object. Normally, I would think “Sweet — my life of leisure is here as I have someone that will fetch the object of my desire for me”, except for the fact that he only follows commands when he feels like it.

Another development over the past month has been G’s interest in hiding things. Small things, big things, he just likes to hide them in places apparently only he can think of.  It started with him hiding his lovey at daycare. When he gets mad he goes for his lovey, and then when he feels better, he hides it someplace. The problem is that the next time he gets upset the teachers can’t find it. Miss J had to follow him around the room for awhile to note his secret hiding places. She’s onto him now. I’ve been doing the same at home, as he’s picked a few favorites here too. For example, wouldn’t you like to find a toy hidden amongst your sugar and flour? How about in between the sheets? Yeah, he’s a big fan of the “hiding” stuff game. S in this case is in major trouble as he likes to leave his (sometimes important) stuff lying around. Perhaps G’s new game is just the cure for that.

He’s still the best, sweetest, funniest kid I can possibly ask for, though!

This is a continuation of my weight-post from last night. Apparently, G’s not done with his weight-loss hints yet.

G was just going through our junk mail and decided to bring me a gift. How sweet! Of all the things he could find, guess what he picked? A free 1-day pass to Gold’s Gym.

What the heck, kid? Really? I mean, really?

The other day I was on the phone, sitting on the ground, while watching G play with our shoes. Yeah, it’s not quite a kid-friendly activity, but he likes rearranging them, and I was supervising him. I was on a work call and he was keeping quiet.

Well, when G decided he had had enough of the shoes he decided to crawl over to me and climb into my lap. Cute, right? Yeah, until I saw his true motive: to lift up my shirt and start poking me in the belly. It took everything I had not to laugh, but at the same time it was a little strange to be poked in my fatty bits. I pulled down my shirt, only for him to do it again. Hmnnn.

Then today he runs off with the remote control and manages to change the channel. To FitTV of all things! 900 TV channels and he gives me FitTV. Thanx kid! Trying to tell me something?

Ooops, almost forgot today was Friday. These long week-end make me all screwey 🙂

The day he wore this shirt, he fulfilled it’s promise. Twice.

Guess which one poured out faster

“Here, Mama! Have a shoe.”

G has progressively gotten harder and harder to change out of his dirty diapes. Morning, mid-day or evening, he just doesn’t want to be changed. I thought at first it might have been the diaper-table, and that he had “outgrown” it, so I started changing him on the floor. It worked all of 3 times, only to go back to the same squealing, squirmy kid… or worse… one that flips over and runs away. There’s nothing more fun than chasing a naked, dirty baby bum around the room, lemme tell ya’. And G crawls fast! He sees you coming and picks up speed and those little legs cover a lot more distance then they deceptively let you think. Arg!

Well, I now have a solution, at least to the morning part of changing: a bottle of milk. I remembered a friend telling us that she just let her daughter suck down her morning bottle while she changed her, so I decided to try it. Well, what do you know? It worked! G’s far more interested in getting his morning milk on, than trying to twist or run away from a clean diaper.

It also makes my morning routine even shorter. I can typically change a diaper, put on socks and pants on before G’s done drinking. I now feel like I’m competing for a personal record. I haven’t managed to get shoes on yet in that timeframe, but I’ve got that goal in my sights. It’s like training for the Kid Dressing Olympics.

I don’t have solutions yet for the diaper changes for the rest of the day, but at least the important morning one is somewhat resolved. I’m open to ideas for the others 🙂

P.S. Ah, yes, we have given him multiple objects to hold an marvel at. They’ve extended from the “permissible” rattle toy, to the “marginal” diaper creme tube, even the bulb syringe. Yeah, can’t get close to him w/ a bulb syringe when it’s time to suck his nose, but he enjoys playing with it on the table. Alas it’s only temporary and gets chucked. I can tell you that my son has an amazing arm and can cover quite a bit of distance throwing stuff when he wants to. I also learned to read the instructions on items I hand to him. For example, G’s grammie gave him/us the little snow globe with a little snowman inside. Super cute. I gave it to G. It occupied him for about two days, until he tossed it, it hit the edge of the dresser and broke. Now I had a naked baby, glitter all over the room (did you know they used glitter for the snow?), water and broken glass all over the floor. Oh and we were running late for the day too, so it’s not like I had a ton of time to fix it all. As I was picking up the broken glass, the back of the snow-globe read “Not for children under 8. Contains glass”. Yeah, well, I learned this the hard way.