Warning.

This is a public service announcement regarding appropriate diaper use.

When allowing your small child to play in water it is advisable to put them in a swim diaper.

A lack of swim diapering may result in the following:



Heh heh heh...

More Mad Gabs...

As I perused the shoe aisles in Target this morning, I was heckled, to the great entertainment of all of the other customers.

First, I must have wandered too far from my cart, because I was summoned with "Mom come! Mooom come!". Yes, like a dog.

Then, as I reached for a pair of shoes, my little hall monitor exclaimed "Mom! Dohn tuss it! Dose all dee-dee!" (Mom, don't touch it! Those are all dirty!). In a show of complete defiance, I grabbed the sandals anyway.

Payne's response?

"Eeeeeeew!"

Happy Easter!

Our day started out bright and early at church, where Payne did fairly well. At one point he was standing in the pew behind Dan alternately "fluffing" the back of Dan's hair and scratching his head, much to the amusement of the older lady sitting next to me. Dan did have to take Payne to the back once for a little "You can't throw a fit simply because Mommy can't hold both you and Nugget for 90 minutes straight" talk. I do feel bad for the kid, but my hips have pretty much been completely eclipsed by stomach, and I need a little bit of shelf to set a squirming extra 30 pounds of little boy!

After church we went back home and my completely wonderful husband made us brunch. Then we staged a little egg hunt for Payne in the back yard. I've gotta say, the boy has his priorities straight. The little plastic eggs were immediately discovered to contain candy. Payne adjusted his game plan. He would pick up the egg, pop it open while crouching over his Easter basket and pour the candy in. The plastic egg would then be flung off to the side or handed to the nearest adult to be dealt with.

Naturally, this 15 minute event had to be recorded with about 100 photos.




"Wait, there's CANDY in these!"


"Get that camera out of my face Dad. There's candy to be had."




Uh, Sumo stance egg cracking?




"The Easter bunny was in my playhouse!"


A boy and his loot.

He spent the rest of the time before his nap eating jelly beans and watching kung fu. What else could a little boy ask for?

My kid's sunglasses are cooler than mine.

I mean really, the shape, the amount of reflection, the oh so cool expression of the wearer...I've been soundly beaten on all levels.

The other day was "I must wear my shades like Mommy" day. When mine were on, his were on. When mine were on top of my head, his were perched precariously on top of his (for some reason toddler size sunglasses aren't designed to fit over a head big enough for a 4 yr old. Hmm...). If they fell off there was a 5 alarm melt down until Payne's beloved "White-neen Queen gasses" (Lightning McQueen glasses) were restored to their original position.

I get the distinct impression that it's good to be Payne.

My life is one giant Mad Gab.

Payne in the car this morning: (Picks up spatula, puts it to his ear)

"Heh-whoa? Hi! How doo-ein?! Yah. I see gnee gnee. Big cuhks. I go gack, see Ed-doh and Deh-wah. Ok. Bye!"

Translation: (Payne picks up cell phone and presses the talk button)

"Hello? Oh hi! How are you doing this morning? Great, good to know! I'm on my way to my Grandmother's house. We just passed by some construction. When I go home this evening I'm going to hang out with my two miniature dachshunds Stella and Ethel. Cool. I'll talk to you later. Bye!"

When I was done laughing (and driving) I snapped a quick picture of the chatter box and his ispatula.



p.s. The spell check on this post was epic.

Dee-dis.

This is how Payne says "Jesus".

We've tried to incorporate the little bit of religious instruction possible for a two year old into visits at church, prayers before meal time, etc...

It's paid off in a few ways:

a)He points and yells "Dee-dis!" at the crucifix in church. Rewarding, but a little embarrassing.

b)He genuflects (bows down on one knee) at the edge of the church pew. It's hilariously cute, even when he does it not quite aimed at the altar.

c)He calls the crucifix I wear "Mommy Dee-dis neck-uss".

d)I recently learned that my Mom sings "Jesus Loves Me" to him often, and he requests "Dee-dis" from her routinely. Awww...

I'm encouraged by our little successes, but his way of saying Jesus always makes me internally snicker, because it sounds like he's saying "Cheese-its" to me. I'm evil.

Privelidge.

- One pajama top
- One diaper
- One quilt
- One Piggy (currently being smothered somewhere under the quilt)
- Two pillows for back support
- One sippy cup of milk
- Two dinosaur shaped pumpkin muffins
- One book to peruse during commercial breaks in Super Why

...which all add up to one satisfied little boy during his first daily hour of consciousness.

Poor Ethel...

After Payne's nap today I was getting his shoes out of his closet, when I turned around I was horrified to see his little fist wrapped around Ethel's head and his finger PUSHING DIRECTLY ON HER EYEBALL. The poor girl was just cowering, not making a peep!

I screamed. He let go.

We had a spirited discussion about how we don't grab the heads of doggies and we certainly don't touch their eyes. Then Payne gave an apology "Sowwee Edd-oh" and gave Ethel a hug.

You know what that sweet dog did? Kissed all over Payne's face.

She is the absolute best kid's dog, ever.



I love them.

Muscle Man.

Payne was running around with only a diaper on this evening (because he'd completely covered himself in meat sauce at dinner). He ran into our bathroom, stepped on the scales, looked down at the number, and shouted "I have pounds!".

Tee Hee!

Here's the fighter right after his weigh in:



Gosh, he is looking SO old.

I think this is officially funny now.

It took a few days.

I was saved by a doggy door on Monday.

Sunday night I locked the door to the garage, which isn't typical. On Monday morning I went to throw a diaper in the trash and waltzed out there without a care in the world. I spun around to open the door (it's weighted and swings closed behind you) and realized it was locked. I believe the first phrase uttered was "Oh f*ck" (sorry Mom).

Payne was inside watching cartoons and blissfully unaware that I was locked out. At first I searched the garage for an implement with which to pick the lock, but after several attempts it occured to me that one has to KNOW how to pick a lock to be succesful. Damn.

My next idea was to go around the front and try to get Payne to unlock the deadbolt on the front door for me. I rang the doorbell and he trotted up and was all "Oh heyyyy Mom!" I tried to yell and mime what I wanted, for him to push the ottoman up to the front door and stand on it to unlock the door. After the fifth yell of "Ottoman!" he chirped "Oh!" and ran off purposefully. I was hopeful. However, his cartoons distracted him and no matter how many times I rung the doorbell he wouldn't come back. Curse you Elmo!

My next plan was to trot through the backyard (in my bare feet and pajamas) and try to get Payne to open the back door by yelling instructions through the doggy door. Now, the doggy door is actually a cat door, so you can imagine how hilarious I looked. I was head down, butt up on the patio yelling to Payne through a hole about 8 inches across. I got him to push a kitchen chair up to the door, but I couldn't get him to understand the part about unlocking it. He got confused and started to cry. Mysteriously, my arm projecting through the door Cousin It style and patting his foot didn't soothe him.

At this point I started eyeing the limestone blocks that line our flower beds. But then an epiphany! My phone was on the kitchen counter! Payne was still crying but had been sucked back into the plight of Super Grover, so I had to start crooning to him through the dog door again; "Hey buddy. Will you get Mommy's phone? It's in the kitchen!". The poor thing perked up at the mention of words he understood completely so he exclaimed "Phone! Kitchen!" and started scanning the counter. He found it and (Thank Baby Jesus!) could reach it. Then he handed it to me through the dog door. This made me burst into tears in relief, which of course made him start crying again. Ugh.

I called my Mother, who has a spare key to our house and she came right over. As I waited for her I stood at the front door and watched Payne try to drown his sorrows with PBS, but it wasn't working well, poor thing. Then my savior showed up, let us in, and scooped up Payne while I ugly cried for a little while. Payne's mood greatly improved with a sippy cup of milk and a pumpkin muffin. If only I was so easily soothed!

Fun morning, eh?

Another edition of Funny Stuff My Kid Said.

- This afternoon I was, um, clearing the backyard of biological refuse. Payne was following behind me saying "Dog poop....mo dog poop..." and, when confronted with what I suppose was a less than impressive sample, exclaimed " baby dog poop!". I'm thrilled to know someone enjoyed that chore.

- Everything size related is not "big, medium, or small", it's "Daddy, Mommy, or Baby". Today I was handed three leaves. The big leaf was "Daddy weef", the medium size leaf was "Mommy weef" and the little leaf was "Baby weef".

- Right before bed tonight we were talking about Baby Sister in Mommy's tummy, and I mentioned that she would come out eventually. Payne focused his gaze on my stomach, furrowed his little brow, and shouted "Baby come'ere!" while furiously motioning the "come here" sign with both hands, at my stomach. Ha!

Also, he insisted on going to dinner looking like this tonight:



He stole that super sexy hat from me. Harumph.

He stirs...

The other morning I was up before Payne, so I actually managed to go and get him as soon as he yelled for me.

This is how I found him:



Notice Piggy and Doggy tucked into his armchair with him. Kindly fail to notice the torn out corner of a page from The Berenstain Bears.

When I walked in and started laughing he looked up and announced "Bunn-ee kwhy-in!". (On the illustration on that page there is a baby bunny in a wagon that is crying) Heh heh!

I wonder what else he does in complete silence in the mornings...

Bluebonnets!

So every March or April we take Payne out to Brenham to take his picture with the bluebonnets.

Year One:

(look at the little babyyyyy!)

Year Two:

(some super nice photography on the part of Dan)

Unfortunately this year Dan is out of town for quite awhile during prime bluebonnet season, so I asked my parents to take us up there for some photographs. Photographs taken by me. Dun dun dunnnnn.....

Year Three:


"Oh my gosh you finally let me out of the car!"

"Cliiiimb every mountaaaaain...."

"Foooord every streeeaaaam."


"Follow every hiiiighwaaaay!"


"tiiiiil youuuuu fiiiind yoooouuuur dreeeaaaam!"




(Payne with his beloved Pappy, or as he says "Paddy")

I'm not sure which is better...

When my child farted silently in church, but screamed "MY TOOT!", or shortly thereafter when he farted loudly but very nicely whispered "my toot".

And then he let another one rumble and just loudly cracked up at himself.

Either all of the people around me were deaf (a distinct possibility at a Saturday evening mass) or equipped with levels of stoicism I lack.

Note to self: No more dispensing of large snacks of apple slices directly before entering places of worship.

Damn. He's on to me.

Earlier today I asked Payne if he wanted to go get a drink with Mommy before nap time.

Payne's answer: "Mommy dot coat!"

I'm ashamed to translate: "Mommy Diet Coke!"

Crap. I guess hiding the evidence by throwing the cups into the garage garbage can won't do me any good now.