"Ch", you might ask? What's that? Well I'll tell you. You appear to be all about efficiency. You see no need to say the whole names to things. You've decided that abbreviations are far better. For instance, saying 'Bob' takes much too long. You've shortened it to 'Bah'. And Pep is now 'Peh'. Buzz Lightyear is 'Buh'. Door is 'doh' [side note - 'door' was your first non-Momma-non-Dadda-word-that-you-said-unprompted word]. Cookie is 'cook cook'. Mickey Mouse is 'Meh Mow' [rhymes with 'now', not 'oh']. Your belly button is 'buh bo'. You seem awfully proud of your ability to shorten the English language. I'm sure the folks over at Oxford and Cambridge (if they ever lost their collective minds and started reading my ramblings) would likely choke on their bow ties.
It's funny how a kid born into a family with mainly pink and/or flowery and/or glittery and/or princessy toys turns out to be a Truck Boy, but you are. You sooooo are. You love trucks to the point that you're probably going to get laryngitis from making so many truck noises. You make anything a truck - a bristle block, your sippy cup, a piece of broccoli [you're certainly not going to eat it, so why WOULDN'T you use broccoli as a truck?]. Not to mention that you have a cement mixer in your crib and a front end loader beside your carseat.
Changing your diaper has become a feat of epic proportions. It is a feat for which I am not equipped. I need at least three more arms to properly change you. You flail, you holler, you twist, you lock your legs. I expect you to turn green and rip off your shirt. Then as soon as the diaper change is over, you turn back into my impossibly sweet, impossibly rascally, pasty-pale little Bear. As with practically every recap since you were three months, I blame your lack of tooth growth. Teething causes you to have some pretty funky diapers, usually in rapid succession. So I get it. I really do. Now get a move on with that tooth growin' business. MERCY.
One of your favorite games is to say my name in silly voices and get me to reply back with your name in the same silly voice. I didn't know there were that many ways to say 'Momma', but now I do. Your gravelly voice is funny, your high-pitched voice is adorable, your silly voice keeps me in stitches. Much like your sister, you'll do anything for a laugh. And much like your sister, I see myself in five years, sitting in the principal's office, trying to keep a straight face as the he/she tells me that my child (ie: you) is a bright child although a constant source of disruption (ie: class clown) for the other students. I'll do my best to put on my Disapproving Face, but inside I'll totally be wearing my What Can I Say, His Daddy and I Breed Knuckleheads? Face.
You still like playing with Natalie's dollhouse. You particularly like making Natalie's Little People princesses take a nap in Dora's bed. You grab one of the dolls and try to smush her in a bed. And then yell because you don't understand why plastic doesn't smush. The doll rolls right off the bed and you yell "NO NO! NIGHT-NIGHT!" as you point accusingly to the disobedient doll and try to smush her in the bed again. I realize that there's no way to effectively explain that the princess's dress is keeping her from being able to lay down properly so I just try to redirect you to a different, flat-backed doll who will, in fact, lay down and properly go night-night. You reject my flat-backed doll and instead choose a Weeble. Need I go on in describing the madness that ensues? I know it's bad if Natalie steps in and is all "Charlie, seriously. Weebles WOBBLE. They don't fall DOWN. This will NEVER work. Just pick another DOLL. UGH!!!!". Then she stomps off all teenager-esque and you and I are left looking at each other like "Dude, she's YOUR sister" and "Dude, she's YOUR daughter".
Hmm, what's left, what's left? Oh yes, this. YOU ARE STILL A TERRIBLE EATER AND YOU DRIVE ME CRAZY WITH YOUR NON-EATING. I COOK GOOD HEALTHY FOOD. NOW EAT SOMETHING THAT'S NOT BEIGE BEFORE MY BRAIN FALLS OUT. I apologize for yelling. NOT REALLY.
Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
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