I think I can now fully express...

how much this kid loves cheese.

This dinner involved a cheese sauce. First, he cleaned his plate. Then.....

Well, you get the idea.


"Waste not, want not. Right, mom?"

A previously unknown benefit of semi-transparent plates.


"I'll do anything! I'll change my own diapers until I'm potty trained for 5 more minutes with the plate!"

Payne comes up with a far less strenuous use for Engineering textbooks.

"Hey Dad, can I see that book over there? I want to figure out how to heat up my own muffins in the morning."




"Oh man. Heat transfer is a little more tedious than I thought."



"I think I'll just do some pilates while watching The Simpsons instead."

"Got its"

So Payne has discovered pockets, which he calls "got its".

He looooves to shove stuff in them now, particularly contraband, like MY keys. He obsesses over arranging the keys with just my car key in his "got it" and the rest of the keys dangling out. This is precisely how I carry mine.

A charming detail of this discovery, is that he has to pull his shirt up past nipple level to find his pants pockets, which he did over and over again in church last week. heh heh.

Payne vogueing with his stylin' vest "got its".



He calls it his "bess". We like to call it his Macgruber vest.



Even I don't understand our family sense of humour, at times.

I finally got it.

Remember this post?

http://imselfinvolved.blogspot.com/2010/10/stella-is-head-case.html

Well I caught her chillin' in the darks, and I finally had my phone with me.



Weirdo.

Happy Thanksgiving, a day late.

I hope everyone had a great Turkey day. Ours was exceptionally lazy and pretty great.

First, Dan deep fried a turkey and my parents and Emily and Eric came over to help us eat it. I'd never had turkey fried before, and it was really juicy and flavorful. Yay Dan! I told him earlier in the week if he didn't make it back from his business trip by Thanksgiving I'd be taking my parents out for chinese food.



Then, Payne fell in love with Emily and Eric and spent the rest of the day like this.

I'm not kidding. He was either asleep or like that from 2:00pm to 7:30pm. I think he sensed that they were the original gifters of the beloved Puppy, and wanted to show his gratitude and dedication.

While Payne worshipped at the altar, the rest of us watched three football games in a row, and had velveeta and rotel dip for dinner. It doesn't get much better than that!

Happy Birthday to my weeblet!

I can't explain the nickname. It just happened. I'm sorry Payne.

It's amazing how much has changed in two years.

He's made an amazing journey from this sweet squishy little ball of baby,


To this amazing little boy!


We are so lucky to have an awesome, healthy wee dude in our lives. I thank God for that every day.

Since we already had Payne's party, and Dan was out of town for work, I was a little worried that the boy's 2nd birthday would be kind of a bummer. So, I devised a master plan to make the day fun.

Step one: A candle in his morning "munnin" (muffin).


Step two: A trip to Toys R Us to "pick out" a toy with a gift card from his great grandparents. In other words, I perused while he played with a toy cell phone that I pulled off of a shelf so his head wouldn't explode. Then, I tossed in some play wood that he was too little for when we got it with a play set last year.

Here he is enjoying the spoils.

Step Three: A lunch involving both sausage and cheese. This would thrill anyone, right?

He saw me making it and was anxiously waiting for it to get done.

Step Four: A dinner of macaroni and cheese out with Granny and Pappy. He took his new drill and his old drill. I must say, he does a pretty good Rambo impression.


And then, he got the very best birthday present of all. Daddy came home!!!

Dear Barnes and Noble,

Thank you.

From the bottom of my heart, I bless your sweet corporate soul for providing a single building that contains both a place to acquire espresso based beverages and an absorbing toddler toy.




So absorbing in fact, Payne located and pulled up a "chair".

Sipping a seasonally flavored latte and watching my son enjoy himself was so very pleasant, I'll choose to overlook your not so covert placement of alluring toys amphitheater style around the only free attraction.

Sincerely,

A caffeine addicted and desperate to get out of the house average suburban Mom.

I wonder what is going on in a child's mind...

when they opt to sleep on their bedroom floor, so close to the bed as to actually have their legs underneath it, instead of on a nice mattress with clean sheets and a pillow?

Lets reconstruct the scenario for a moment:

(Payne is playing on the floor)

Kick. Kick. "Man, my eyelids are getting heavy. Ooh look! My legs fit under the bed!" Yawn. "I wonder where puppies come from. I wonder when I'll get to eat some cheese again." Rubs eyes. "I really like my blanket. I..." Soft snoring.

This must be sort of the cognitive equivalent of the narcoleptic dachshund.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CY5PMT-_rLg

At least, the end result is pretty similar.



This post brought to you by a sneak peek into Payne's room during his nap on Saturday.

If you've ever had a cat, you'll understand.

So the child really REALLY likes to swing. We get to a playground and he runs up to the swing set yelling "wing! wiiing!".

This is Payne's face while he's swinging.


This is Payne's face when asked if he's done swinging.


So, clearly, he's generally reluctant to get off of the swing. He set a new standard of resistance on Saturday though. I told him he was done swinging because, well, my arms were about to fall off and if I slow down he yells "No! Puss! (push)" at me (nice unintentional insult there). As I started to pull him out he engaged the first level of defense by clinging to the chains; totally normal, and slightly reminiscent of a cat being dragged out of its hiding place, no? THEN he went into hyper resistance drive.

I feel the need to point out that I'm short. Exceptionally short. The baby swings at most parks are about chest height on me, so you can imagine it's difficult for me to heft my 27 lb child that is already over half my height over my head (even under normal circumstances), which is what's necessary when getting him out of the swing.

So, hyper resistance drive involved him splaying his legs while they were still in the swing holes. You know when your cat doesn't want to go into its carrier, and it pulls the mammalian umbrella trick? Throws out its front and back legs and grips the edges of the kennel opening? My kid did this while also clinging to the swing chains, and squirming uncontrollably...while I was trying to lift him over my head.

At one point I had the screaming ball of rebellion nearly upside down, trying to essentially shake him out of the swing. Even that didn't work because of those stupid expensive toddler shoes with the non skid soles. I'd been battling valiantly for so long an old woman started to step forward to help me. That's how much of a weakling I am.

Fortunately, just before the concerned bystander intervened, I managed to bend his knees and break the feline padlock he had on the swing bottom and haul him out, still screaming. Hooray!

My souvenirs in this little adventure were burning forearms and a sweaty polo shirt.

I like to call this pose...

The Double Decker Dachshund.



Yep. They do this all of the time, snorting little huffs of doggy happiness for the duration.

A boy and his dog, and a string of minor calamities.

Ethel helped me get Payne up yesterday morning.

He was too cute. She was "sitting pretty" by his bed (it's that bolt upright sit dachshunds do when they want something) and I showed him the signal to let her up, which is patting the mattress. He did it all by himself and was thrilled when she obeyed him.

In other news, Payne has had a bit of a rough week. He fell and chipped the edge of one of his front teeth on Monday, and then last night he fell into my parents' coffee table right on his ear and essentially pierced it. Fun times.

He went to the pediatric dentist for the tooth, and all is fine. It'll get smoothed out a little bit at his next cleaning. I don't think the ear needs any real attention. It looks like a pretty clean cut. Some policeman were giving me a thorough observation at a restaurant later though! Geez, you can't take a kid with a bloodied ear and a chipped tooth anywhere! Some people...heh heh. I guess I passed inspection, because they let me leave without talking to me.

I think I'm retiring the footed sleepers.

I love them. I probably have a near fanatical dedication to cotton footed sleepers, but really, what is more cute than a baby in a sleeper? That's right, absolutely nothing.

The issue at hand is cooperation from the third party. The sleeper and I are of one mind; however, the toddler is of another. Apparently, it's far FAR too much to ask to allow oneself to be dried off after a bath (which seems to induce zoomies around the house, just as it does with dogs. hmm) submit to lotioning, diaper creaming, and diapering, and then (throws hand up to forehead in dismay) be expected to lie down in order for a parent to efficiently get a sleeper onto one's body. This really, truly, must have been a favored method of interrogation during the Spanish Inquisition.

This, combined with the fact that the stout little bugger is getting strong and a few sound kicks to the torso really hurt, I think I'll be shelving them soon. Yet another sign that my baby isn't a baby anymore (sob).

In memorandum, a photographic ode to the sleeper:


The First Sleeper. sniffle.


The chillin with Pappy sleeper.


The velvet cheeked newborn sleeper. Squee!


The telling a great story? sleeper.


The being mooned by an adorable little string of cars sleeper.


The Christmas 2009 sleeper


The Dashund sleeper. You know we had one somewhere.


The "How freaking cute is this sleeper?" sleeper. Additionally, how freaking cute is my husband?


The "good morning!" sleeper.


The jelly shielding sleeper.

(The sleeper takes a bow, and exits stage right.)

More about "whys"...

The boy takes after his mother, I guess. He is quickly developing a passion for appreciating a good french fry.

I'm going to admit this here, although I'm not overly proud of it (sigh). On Tuesday Dan and I took him to Raising Cane's, which is a chicken strips and fries place. He merely walked in the door, saw the cashier's counter and happily chirped "whys!". Then he had fries for lunch, with a tiny side of chicken.

He so thoroughly enjoyed this meal, that at one point he blissfully leaned waaaay back in his high chair, so that he was staring at the ceiling, and carefully brought a fry dipped in ketchup up in the air, and then down to his face. All he needed to complete the picture was someone fanning him with a palm frond.

I think we've got a future addict.

(He's ignoring his hot dog and reaching for more fries, I'm willing to bet.)

The saga continues...

I KNEW I shouldn't have bragged about how awesomely Payne sleeps.
(shakes fist at Karma)

I found Payne camped out thusly, this a.m.



Let's see, two blankets wet from being sucked on all night, Piggy, his pillow, his comforter (wadded up behind him), a copy of The Very Busy Spider, and a Raggedy Andy doll. I really don't know if he's sleeping there, or in his bed! At some point during the night he wanders around and accrues various trinkets, then shoves them all in the nook behind his bedroom door and waits for me to open it .

And forget naps. We've probably got a 30% nap success rate at best right now. At least he finally ripped off his door stopper during his nap today, so I don't have a constantly boinging reminder that he isn't sleeping at any given moment. heh heh.

To make up for his nocturnal kleptomania, he did something super cute today. Ethel was in his room with us while we were in the middle of a sock war (it had been a long day, don't judge me!) and he stopped sqealing and throwing socks at me long enough to yell "Ed-dow! Mine!" (Awwww....sniffle). Then I started petting Ethel and he said "sare?" (share) and started petting her too. He completed his heart melting performace by giving her a hug.

I swear, a kid can pretty much figuratively flip you the bird for an entire day, and if they do something sweet like that at the end of it, you forget everything else.

Of all of his new toys....

He has a new battery powered car, a lego table, new books, new puzzles, new cars of all different shapes and sizes, a giant race car ramp, some awesome gumball machine toy, a tricycle; he is absolutely inundated with cool new stuff.

You want to know what his favorite is?

The two "window" pieces of a lego set. The window frame opens and closes and he can pull it off and ask me to snap the frame back on, over and over and over again.

He took one of them with him to his Granny's house on Monday, he loves them so much.



Behold! The coveted prize!

Oh, and he calls them his "eggos".

He loves baby wipes.

If anyone reading this hasn't had a child yet, go ahead and buy some stock in the baby wipe companies. My shameless consumption of wipes is kind of insane. Payne has picked up on my habit, and contributes quite nicely

If I hand him a wipe he'll scrub down his spot at the table, wipe off his hands, and wipe his own face.

Once, I was down on my hands and knees scrubbing dried milk drips off of the hardwood with wipes, and he was following me around on his hands and knees, assisting. I was thinking at the time it'd be freaking awesome if he stopped spiking his sippy cup so that he wouldn't have to help me clean all of the fossilized milk chips of of the floor, but whatev.

The other night I was giving Ethel a baby wipe bath, and Payne climbed up onto the couch with me, laid Puppy across his lap, and proceeded to give Puppy a thorough scrub down as well. I'm kind of jealous that Puppy doesn't freak out through the whole thing like Ethel does. Maybe my next dog will be plush. Hmm...

During one of his naps, he raided the diaper/wipe section of his dresser, and piled up 4 or 5 packages of wipes onto his bed. He'd tried to open them, but they were still sealed closed, thank goodness! I can only imagine what his diabolical wipe plans were.

And my very personal favorite, I once saw him set Piggy on his back on the coffee table, lift up Piggy's legs, and very gently, with a look of complete concentration, wipe Piggy's butt.


(and a random baby butt to brighten your day. heh heh)

Payne's Super Sweet Second Birthday Party.

So, for whatever reason in my illogical Mom mind, I wasn't that into Payne's 1st birthday. We just had family over and opened a few gifts. However, I found myself ridiculously excited about his second birthday, so I planned a party a couple of weeks before his real birthday (the day before Thanksgiving this year) at a local park.

The weather didn't cooperate with us, so we ended up having the party at the house, but Payne had a blast even without his beloved "pay" (playground). Thanks to everyone who helped us celebrate our kiddo!

The Birthday Boy coveting some pastries.


He was supremely proud of himself after he blew out his candle correctly and everyone cheered as if he'd just single handedly negotiated a peace treaty between Israel and Palestine.


The feeding frenzy, er....gift opening.


Some seasoned birthday veterans helping Payne out.


Dan assisting with a gift that absolutely, positively, had to be made accessible right that second or Payne would die.


I think the face says it all!
(Preston, we owe you a Hawaiian vacation or something for this picture)

The Office Nook

I admit, I occasionally hide from Payne in the office. It's the lone kid free zone in the house (baby gated off), because we keep the computers and all of Dan's photography equipment in there.

Payne resents this, naturally.



See that weird little gap between the wall and the gate? See how the mesh part of the gate looks, um, funny?

(squints)

(tilts head)

Wait....am I seeing a pair of bare baby legs?



"You can't escape ME, vile woman!"

He drags his toys with particularly ill luck in his little cubby, as well. He threw the biggest fit the other day when his dump truck couldn't squeeze in.

Whys?

I'll be damned if these kids don't pick up on just exactly what they're not supposed to notice.

I really try to limit Payne's exposure to fast food. I usually make a treat out of a quick lunch out once a week, on a day where our activities outside of the house run into lunchtime.

I'm very nutritionally concerned.

(cough cough)

So anywaaaaaay, I was going through the McDonald's drive through the other day to get myself a burger before I dropped Payne off with my Mom before I went to work. I'd packed him a lunch from home.

I take the paper bag and set in in the passenger seat, and I hear him pipe up from the back, "whys?". I looked back there and he was holding out his hand expectantly and repeatedly requesting some "whys" (fries).

Sh*t.

I found Payne as illustrated this morning.

World's worst picture, but you get the idea.

I've found him behind his bedroom door almost every morning since he started sleeping in a toddler bed.

a) It's a little creepy, because he jumps out at me when I open the door.

b) I'm pretty sure he's planning an escape. Note the "tools" as evidence.

c) He is very very sneaky, hiding in the shadows like that.

Ninja dog must have taken her apprentice.

Everything is noise.

Payne's current favorite word is "noys" as he says it (as was illustrated in the "Ed-dow tow noys" post). He fits it into as many phrases as possible.

A car drives by: "Cah noys!"

The girls bark: "Dog noys!"

He jingles some keys: "Kee noys!"

Dan laughs: "Daddy noys!"

His father and I mistakenly assume that the newest Star Trek movie is appropriate viewing for a toddler:

(Black holes, lasers, giant spaceships, ice monsters, his first exposure to the concept of warfare? Psh, he'll be fine!)

Payne's reaction: (Big eyes) "Pane? (plane) noys! NOYS! Uuuuuugh NOYSSSS!" (frantically scrambles into my lap)

Whoops.

Kids these days....

Yes, those are keys in the "ignition" of his Cozy Coupe.

No, they were not designed to go with the coupe.

Yes, the keys make all of the appropriate car remote noises, and they make an ignition noise.

Me finding the keys in the back of his closet, and him figuring out they fit in the coupe, absolutely and positively made his evening. He's probably imagining he got to do this again.

I prefer to "remember" him singing along with the radio here.