I'm Doomed

WeeBee isn't even two and he's already figured out that if Daddy says no, go ask Mommy.

This evening I had gone upstairs for five minutes of peace and quiet, when WeeBee came crashing through the bedroom door.  Picking himself up, he announced, "I'm so sorry!" and then started tugging on my hand, asking "Cheese?  Cheese?"

I wasn't sure whether the "I'm so sorry" was for coming into the room like the end of the world was upon us, or because he wanted cheese...in which case, the apology didn't make sense.  After confirming that he was, in fact, asking for cheese (cheese, Cheerios, and juice can sometimes sound the same when he's worked up), I agreed, and we headed back downstairs.

Daddy was in the kitchen, making a sandwich and laughing to himself.  It turns out that WeeBee had asked for cheese, and had been told no, because Daddy was busy slicing ham.  Not one to waste any time, WeeBee then ran upstairs and cornered Mommy, who was completely oblivious to what had just gone on, and said yes.

Sometimes I wonder if he stays up at night plotting this stuff...

In Case You Were Wondering

I have no intention of getting up at 4am to watch the royal wedding.  I wish them well and all, but unless you are my blood relative, there is no way in heck I am passing up on sleep at that time to watch something that will be covered by every news outlet for the rest of the day.  Quite honestly, the only thing I am even vaguely interested in is what Kate's dress will look like, and I'm perfectly content to wait until 7am to find that out.

WeeBee: 1, Mommy: 0

The following took place at 8am this morning.  WeeBee is far more awake than Mommy, because Mommy still hasn't had her cup of tea that she's been trying to make for the last 20 minutes...

WeeBee is standing on a kitchen chair, surveying the dining room and commenting on sippy cups of milk and raisins...


Mommy:  WeeBee, sit down on the chair nicely.
WeeBee grins at Mommy, but doesn't move.
Mommy:  Do you see anyone else in this house standing on chairs?
WeeBee cocks his head to the side, but keeps grinning.
Mommy:  Does Daddy stand on kitchen chairs?
WeeBee:  Nooo.
Mommy:  Does Mommy stand on chairs?
WeeBee:  Nooo.
Mommy:  Then why is WeeBee standing on a chair?
WeeBee:  (grins again and holds his arms out)  Huuuuugggggg?

You win, kid.

I Believe It's Time for Our Weekly Crazy News Article

Technically, this news is from a few weeks back, but I came across it yesterday.

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704630004576249013084603344.html

I've got to give the woman credit - there are plenty of dictators out there right now wishing they could knock out their country's internet access with a shovel...

I've also got to question the security of a country where people digging for potatoes can repeatedly knock out everyone's internet...I'm no farmer, but I don't think potatoes grow that far underground.  Is this cable under six inches of dirt or what?

Happy Easter!

Hope everyone had a great day!  The weather here was gorgeous - definitely the nicest Easter Sunday we've had in a long time.  WeeBee looked very cute in his outfit until he decided to sit down in a left-over mud puddle on our front steps.  I give up.

Ohhhh, How Naughty!

WeeBee loves to climb.  Unfortunately he has also inherited Mommy's total lack of eye/foot coordination, and it usually ends badly.  His climbing spot of choice this week happens to be the stools we have at our kitchen counter, which, while quite sturdy, were not made for a 25 lb toddler to swing on.

Anyway, I have spent most of the last week dragging him off these stools.  As soon as I take him off one, he climbs up on the other.  Sometimes he just wants to sit, (especially if Daddy is sitting on the other one) but he also likes to stand on them.  Last night he decided that the next logical step was climbing up onto the counter itself, and attempting to crawl across it.  He's been put in timeout and probably hasn't gotten a sticker for being good in a week - none of which seems to perturb him in the least.  The little stinker knows exactly what he is doing, and yesterday I got proof.  I came out of the bathroom to find him scrambling up to the counter, saying in his best horrified Mommy voice, "Ohhhh, how naughty!  How naughty!"  Then he stood up on top of the stool and grinned at me.

Yeah, I had to turn around so he wouldn't see me laughing at that one...

Nope, Not A Dog

Sometimes WeeBee is so similar to Daddy that it makes me laugh until I'm ready to cry.

My husband insists that any dog the size of your shoe is "not a real dog."  This evening we were all sitting on the couch watching some dog trivia show, during most of which WeeBee kept calling out "Doggie!  Woof!  Doggie!" and waving at the tv.  About 20 minutes into the show they focused on some ridiculously small creature you could put in a tissue box.  (Unfortunately I forget the breed, as I was more interested in keeping my cup of tea from splashing all over the couch.)  Suddenly I heard a little voice at my elbow say, "Nope!  Not a dog!"

I looked down, and WeeBee had his head cocked to the side, staring at the little ball of fluff on tv, and repeated in a very serious voice, "Nope, not a dog!"

That's when I cracked up and gave up caring what happened to my cup of tea.

And We're Still Sick...

Poor WeeBee sounds like a mini Darth Vader, and I sound like an escapee from a TB ward.  Still, I doubt you want all the graphic details on our sniffles, so I'll move on.  Suffice it to say that we both fell asleep on the couch this afternoon and Daddy got blackmail photos of Mommy asleep with her mouth hanging open and drooling.  (I vehemently deny the drooling part.)

In mildly amusing WeeBee news, he has figured out that if something has steam coming from it, that means it is hot.  During the last week or so he has been coming out with random observations and I have no idea how he figured these things out.  Obviously I warn him if something like the oven or his oatmeal is hot, but I don't think I ever actually explained "See the steam?  That means it's still hot."  This evening I had a cup of tea on the counter, and he pointed up at it and started asking, "Hot?  Hot?"  He hadn't seen me pour the tea, and there were plenty of other things on the counter, so the only thing that could have possibly made it stand out was the steam.  I was rather impressed.  Then, the other week, we were at a coffee shop and he was fascinated by the glass pepper shaker, and somehow knew it was pepper.  I mean, we have a pepper shaker at home as well, but ours isn't clear, so I wouldn't expect him to know what pepper actually looked like.  Besides, while I cook with pepper all the time, it's not something I sprinkle directly on his food all that often.  Of course, when I ask how he knows these things, he just giggles.  Oh well...

It's Been Awhile

So it's been awhile since I updated you all on our adventures here, but both WeeBee and I have been sick, and by 10pm I was completely incapable of forming coherent thoughts, let alone sentences.  It's still pretty bad here (how can such a little nose hold so much sniffly gunk?) but WeeBee was well enough today to try to surf on his toy truck while holding the back of the rocking chair...

The one good thing to come of all this is that WeeBee has gone back to taking naps.  Although he's always been pretty good about sleeping at night, he's never been a good napper.  (Are there really newborns out there who sleep for 18 hours a day?  Because from the time he was a week or so old, day time was for observing the world, not sleeping for 3-6 hour stretches.)  About 3 months ago, he stopped napping completely.  If I was lucky he would fall asleep in the car while I was running errands, or occasionally in his stroller, but gas is way too expensive for me to drive around aimlessly every day in the hopes that he'll fall asleep, and it was way to cold and snowy in January or February to wander the streets with a stroller for more than 10 minutes.  Besides, the whole point was to get him to sleep at home, so I could get 20 minutes to clean my living room.

Well, I'm not sure if it's because he's been sick, or just a coincidence, but WeeBee has gone back to taking naps.  Generally some time between 1:30 and 4pm he has an irrational meltdown over something (being told he can't climb on the end table or run his truck into the dog food, for instance,) climbs into my lap screaming, and within 5 minutes is asleep.  I can think of much nicer routines (bedtime story? song? teddy bear?) but apparently this works for him.  It's completely hit or miss what sort of mood he'll be in when he wakes up, but it's generally nothing that a slice of peanut butter toast won't cure.  (Apparently peanut butter toast is to WeeBee what tea is to Mommy.)

Who knows, maybe this will continue and I'll actually get to update my blog more than twice a week.  :)

And It's Crazy News Article Time Again...

Can you imagine if they did this in New York?  I mean, Mayor Bloomberg has an issue with McDonald's putting toys in their Happy Meals...imagine the self-righteous fit he could work himself into over this...

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20110407/od_nm/us_guns_radioshack_odd

Seriously though, I feel cheated - I didn't get anything when I signed up for cable a few years back.  And then when I cancelled it, they accidentally knocked out my phone and internet as well.  Evidently I need to move out west if I want to get cool freebies...

Why Does My Sick Toddler Have More Energy Than I Do?

I should preface this by pointing out that WeeBee never gets sick.  I vaguely remember him having a cold for 2 days when he was about 6 months old, but that's it.  So you can imagine my surprise when he stumbled into my room last night at around 12:30, all congested and running a fever.

Looking back, I was probably more upset than he was.  Having a little boy that never gets sick leaves one sorely unprepared for when they are actually sick.  I stripped him down to his diaper and gave him some cold apple juice, which brought the fever down a little, but then he started shivering so badly he couldn't speak clearly.  Not that this seemed to actually bother him - he proceeded to sit on my bed and wear his monkey pajamas on his head as a hat.  He probably would have slept through the fever if he hadn't been so congested.  Of course, he wouldn't actually let me near him to wipe his nose.  He thought the thermometer that I stuck in his ear was the most awesome thing ever, and insisted on me taking his temperature half a dozen times, but as soon as I came near him with a tissue, he was all "Nooooo, nooo, Mommy!" and squirming to the other end of the bed.  I figured there was no point in getting him all worked up and bringing his temperature back up, so I propped him up with my pillows, put on the classical music station (without any Bob the Builder shout-outs, thankfully) and convinced him to go back to sleep.

He woke up again around 4:30, and his temperature had gone back up again.  This time I gave him some Tylenol that I finally found, and he declared "Yummy."  He was perfectly content crawling all over the bed, talking to his stuffed animals, and trying to take his temperature.  And essentially, that's how he was all day.  Logically, the kid should have been in bed, exhausted and/or miserable.  He hadn't gotten more than 2 hours of sleep at a time, and he was still running a fever.  But no - Mommy and Daddy were stumbling around completely sleep deprived, while WeeBee tore around the house on his toy truck, bleary eyed and runny nosed, pausing only to ask for more juice and wipe his nose on my shirt.  Because, to a two year old, there's a difference between having Mommy wipe your nose, and running up to her and rubbing your sniffly little face all over her t-shirt...

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy he's happy.  I just wish I had that sort of enthusiasm for life today...

The Most Glorious Thing In The World

Is being able to sleep until 9:30 on a Sunday morning.

I can't remember the last time I slept past 7ish.  Lately, it's been more like 6.  I know there are millions of people who get up for work every day at that time, but at least most of them have weekends to look forward to.  Just when I had become resigned to never getting the chance to sleep in for another 3 or 4 years, WeeBee decided to sleep late.

I awoke to his cheerful little "Hiiii" and two little eyes staring at me over the side of the bed.  I was vaguely aware that a) it was brighter than usual, and b) he was in a remarkably good mood.  Apparently the extra two or three hours of sleep made as much of a difference for him as it did for Mommy.  :)

Of course within an hour or two he had scattered shoes everywhere, Daddy was pulling him out of a pile of dog food and water, and he was throwing a fit because evil Mommy was insisting that the blue fuzzy blanket belonged on the couch, not the floor.  So some things never change...