Somehow the horse sound is wildly appropriate for this "I two" stage. Here he is riding "Beam" -- Ranger Steve's sidekick. He looks like a natural, huh? Grandaddy: don't get any ideas.
I just have a few unrelated points to make tonight.
- Chick-Fil-A really needs to get Mr. Rogers's Ph.D. resources to help out with their new treats for the toddler set. In their Happy Meal equivalent, they are giving out a series of books about animals in Virtue Valley. The one we got is called A Tale of Resourcefulness with Armadillo. On the back inside cover are a list of "Discussion Points" and some advice about how to ask questions related to the story, two of which BEG to be posted here with all the rest of my nonsense. Please remember that this is what they give instead of a toy with small parts ... it is intended for children under three. Here are the ones I like the best: (1) How did Armadillo use her resources? (2) What does it mean to be resourceful? (3) Make a list of what you can do best to get a job done. Now am I just doing my usual underestimating, or does that seem just a titch advanced for a toddler?
- On a non-Goose note, school (read: working full time) is going well for me. Which means that nobody is consistently pulling down his/her pants in class, stealing things, or glueing together my file folders. Yes, I had all of those experiences when I taught 9th grade. I was listening to a news report about the trial of Saddam Hussein the other day and I thought, "Hmm ... that courtroom sounds VERY similar to some of my previous teaching experiences." Thank the good Lord for immigrant adults. Otherwise the world would've lost this teacher.
- The Goose went for his 2-year checkup today. He's 50th percentile for weight (around 30 pounds) and 75th for height (2' 11.25" -- yes, that's almost three feet tall). Apparently he did a little crying during the vaccination part but then, through his tears, thanked the nurse profusely for his special bandaid. Now I'm not one to brag, but that's good parenting people.
- While at the doctor's office, they were asking about his language development (I'm sure they're working on a new article for The Journal of Pediatrics or Gifted Child magazine or something similarly impressive). One of the questions was, "Is he putting together up to three words?" Now, I wasn't there, but y'all: he's putting together MUCH more than 3-word utterances ... and anyway, complexity cannot be measured simply by quantity. We need more profound structural analysis than just counting in order to measure his true abilities. To illustrate, I thought I'd share our latest ON REPEAT car conversation:
JEB: A mawnmower!
KPB: Yep, there's a lawnmower.
JEB: That yady.
KPB: Yep, one time we saw a lady on a lawnmower.
JEB: That pink hat.
KPB: Yep, she had on a pink hat. It was a lady with a pink hat on a lawnmower.
JEB: A noise.
KPB: The lawnmower goes vrrrooom, vroom, vroom.
JEB: Vroom, vroom, vroom.
KPB: Yep, that's what the lawnmower says.
JEB: Is a noise?
KPB: Yep, it's a noise.
JEB: Is OK?
KPB: Yep, it's just a loud noise ... not a scary noise.
JEB: That mawnmower.
REPEAT CHORUS, except this time insert "bucket truck, garbage truck, fire truck, a mule, that tractor (auger on back), a chainsaw, that coffee grinder, a hair dryer, that fan for hands," etc. It goes on and on like this. I'm not sure what it is about being in the car that triggers it, but the conversation never varies (other than whatever noise-making thing is being discussed). I think the "Is OK?" part comes from the fact that one time I was trying to prepare him for the loud noise of something and I told him that it was going to make a loud noise but that it was OK ... just a loud noise, not a scary one. Now he always clarifies this point.
We went on a family picnic yesterday, and a good time was had by all. The Goose discovered softball, and this is what it sounded like: "A bat! Kick. No. A bat! Go, go. A ball. A baseball. NO, no. A big ball. Is soft. A bat!" I have never been so interested in softball, frankly. His commentary could keep me interested in anything.
While on the picnic, he usurped a pink and purple bike, to the dismay of its bow-headed 3-year old owner. Upon discovering that she was not into the idea of him riding on it, he walked up to her older brother, who was holding a power rangers balloon, and said, "That boon pease." He replied, "OK, but just for a minute, because balloons are VERY expensive." Contentment abounds ... along with some conjecture and hype (or possibly, price gouging) about the cost of helium and mylar.
And then of course every night we all pile into the big bed for Tory Time. No, it doesn't involve a bunch of white-wigged Brits. Rather, it involves book after book about going to the potty. Penguins in Big Boy Underwear. Michael goes poop (yay Michael!). Mr. Roger's simple explanations about how children need to take their time about making B.M.s.
And on that note, I think I'll say good night. I have the distinct luxury of flying away to another state tomorrow for a Girl's Weekend with my old college buddies. We are all turning 30 soon even though we still look 21.
Happy fall y'all!