Skinny Dippin'

Are y'all wondering why he's always nekkid? Well, let me tell you ...

Due to a consistent attempt to wage holy war during diaper change, we have started some early potty training. I say "early" because here in the U.S. it is common to wait until the kid is ready. However, in other parts of the world (and even in this country several decades ago) it is normal to potty train between 12 and 24 months. So, we're trying.

WITHOUT ANY SUCCESS.

But I will tell you one thing: It is much easier to just pick up the poop off the floor than to get him to lie down on the changing table.

Anyway, in this particular picture, The Goose is eating tortilla chips that I (Susie-Betty) had made (MADE!) ... he was dipping them in some Pace (of course) Picante sauce. Double dipping too. And triple and quadruple and quintuple dipping if I remember correctly. He's really into condiments. In a "would you like some French fries with your KETCHUP?" sorta way.

Tonight we hosted the end of term party for my day-job school HERE at our house. B did a nature walk and snakes program (NOT here at our house) and then about 20 students and teachers came here to play games and eat pizza. It was really fun and The Goose was in the middle of it all. During the pizza-eating time, he went round to all the guests plucking pizza slices off of their plates. He also grabbed orange slices and forbidden, frosting-covered cookies (which were immediately removed from his grimy little hands). Additionally, he attempted to swipe soda cans. Quite the thief we have.

In the middle of the party, one of the students opened the front door and a bassett hound burst through the door, tore through the house, and terrorized a visiting two-year old before finally ending up in the sunroom. The dog had been loose on the park for a couple days and so the rangers put it in the kennel. Apparently it dug under the fence and was wandering about until it saw an opportunity to run through my front door into PIZZA PARTY WORLD. It was quite an afternoon.

ION ...

We have developed an intense affinity for any fleece blanket. Or jacket. Or pajamas. The Goose carries around something that is at least 70% polyester at ALL times. This began back in January when I started working more. He has had a blanky for quite a while now, but the dragging-it-around-everywhere lifestyle started soon after the New Year arrived. If there's no blanky downstairs (we have two fleece blankies and we welcome any more that you may have laying around your house since recently the monogrammed one was dropped on one of the trails here at the park and spent a few days in limbo ... first in the hands of a park visitor and then at the visitor center in the receptionist's desk -- don't worry, we washed it), then he grabs whatever else is fleece and drags it around with his thumb in his mouth. He also has an incredible attachment to a Winnie the Pooh bear.

Anyway ... I have been reading this book about how to treat children with equality and be democratic about the whole parenting thing, and one of the things I've learned is that if you just let them make their own decisions about things then they will see firsthand the consequences and will choose NOT to do certain things because they will have learned through experience that the consequences are not so great. Like, for example, putting a blanky in the tub.

So he put it in there, and then he of course felt the need to suck the thumb ...

Next, he got really sleepy ...

Rubbed his eyes ...

And attempted to conk out in tub ...

He cracks me up!

I know this is getting long, but I have a lot to report so just sit back and relax.

Now he's only taking one nap per day, so he goes down around 11 a.m. and sleeps until about 2 p.m. During his waking time he alternates between a few favorite activities:

1. Activating the paper shredder and then running from it laughing.
2. Carrying around a picture of my mother's cat.
3. Pushing around a truck making "vroom" noises.
4. Bringing us books to read.

His favorite books are about animals and anything that moves ... planes, trains, automobiles, boats, dogs on roller skates, etc. Whenever there is a tractor, bulldozer, little digger, excavator, dump truck, speed boat, dog on roller skates, passenger train, or bus, he says, "VROOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!" Whenever there is a cat, teddy bear, polar bear, panda bear, or koala he makes a high-pitched sound and then leans over to touch his forehead to the page. I assume that this is some sort of affectionate body language, but I'm not really sure. Whenever there's an alligator he makes the snapping sign with his hand. Whenever there's a sea otter he waves (???), and whenever there's a mama and baby he says, "Da-Da" just to annoy me.

This da-da thing has really gone too far. He only says "mama" when he is hurt. Otherwise, he thinks my name is da-da. If he sees a picture of B he says, "da-da" ... if he sees a picture of me and B he says "da-da." If I point to myself and say, "What's my name?" he says, "Da-da." Today when my students were here and B was busy showing off his nature knowledge, The Goose kept running up to his dad to be picked up. When The Dad came to pick up the dog (in the middle of the party), The Goose RAN desperately too him as if to say, "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!?!?!" The students were starting to say things like, "Wow! He really likes his Dad!" and/or "Boy! He sure is a Daddy's boy." To the point where I was just like, "Well, he likes his mama too! REALLY! When no one is here he goes on and on about how I'm his favorite ... about how he loves the fact that I read books about child rearing and attempt to raise him democratically. Meanwhile The Dad just runs around making him laugh and teaching how to shoot baskets and kick a soccer ball and eat with a fork and look both ways before crossing the street. You know, the mundane stuff.

Let's face it: I am second choice.

How did my life come to this?

But Goosey, here's a secret: Your dad IS more fun than me. That's why I married him.