"Boy Boy Boyboyboy Boy" is the new word on the list. Uncle Adam calls him his boy boy. Now he busies himself pushing two trucks across the living room floor calling for Adah! and growling his new phrase over and over. Our pediatrician gave us some tips to help increase the baby vocabulary to words with meaning and I was semi disappointed they weren't some new thing I had yet to read about. We have been trying all kinds of talking and chatter and I have somewhat come to terms with the simple fact of our matter. Our boy is mobile and his dexterity is above average with an inquisitive twist. Yet, mancub is not on the speech bandwagon all the way. He is walking next to that bandwagon trying to take the wheels off, but refuses to hop right on it. We understand each kid is unique. However, I am really interested to see what all his crazed cave man and pirate-like noises translate to when syllables and sentences develop someday. I have a feeling it will be just as confusing, amazing and hilarious as most of his bizarre behaviors. Like when he stares at his sausage toes and the squints and laughs till he tips over. I don't get it but I find it incredible and hilarious.
While fawning over my obnoxiously adorable evil seed, I am on average taking 37.5 trips up and down the stairs to either check on my dad or retrieve or bring something he has requested. I am an on call nurse of sorts. The evidence of his age surfaces more every day. For me personally, I'd rather have him here with me. But it's like watching the years fly off him and regression to youth-like behavior has begun. Only moments of it, but it has undeniably begun. Because he is a fibber. Not a liar. That seems harsh due to the stupidity of the totally unnecessary things he fibs about. Cookies first off. A whole bag of cookies became empty less than 12 hours after I purchased them. Like a 5 year old with a fear of a spanking he tells me he didn't do it. Totally crazy considering I watched him eat about a dozen of them. It is just the reality of him becoming a sneaky little old man. I am just glad I find the humor it it and I remind myself that in a nursing home he wouldn't get away with that crap and they might be strict. Do I need to be more strict? Not about cookies. Other things yes, but cookies no. Considering that a blind flightless bird in a paper bag has more mobility than he does, I am not very strict because I don't need to be mean to steer him back to his two different resting spots. The cookie thing just caught me by surprise is all. Why fib about cookies. Because he is slipping just a teeny tiny bit. Thank god we are here for his silly stuff. He can be so salty that I doubt a nurse in a home would be handing him a bag of cookies in the first place honestly.
Between Daddy and A-man, I shake my head a lot. One is growing up and one is growing old and they spend my time for me. But would I rather be doing this or working with a gaggle of catty hens in an office someplace or answering phones in collections again? Well, this I can do in my pajamas while cleaning my house and eating a bag of cookies I hid from dad.
Word of the day
UPS-et: My own special word for when UPS delays my packages I was practically( literally) watching the window for all day ( and have now discovered text alerts for such delays which are helpful, but still a let down).