Mine mine mine, all mine

I swear I did try to dress him

So my son is wearing his pajamas to daycare today.

Not the whole set - I did manage to get him into some jeans - but he's wearing his Lightning McQueen (whom he calls "Keen" ) pajama top, which in no way even remotely resembles anything other than a pajama top.

He refused to be mollified by any of my other clothing suggestions, which included shirts bearing everything from doggies to bikes to monster trucks. Nope. Only his Lightning McQueen pajama top would do.

"I think it's great that our son is expressing his opinions on what he wants to wear to school," Charles said.

However, it's my opinion that screaming, 'NO MAMA! NO! WEAR KEEN! WEAR KEEN! WEAR KEEN!' is not so much an expression of opinion as it is a rather unyielding demand.

That's OK. It'll make changing him for bedtime really easy. See? There's a bright side to everything!

We've decided to try to brave taking Drew to the circus this upcoming weekend.

We've been debating it, due to his lack of ability to sit still for more than five minutes at a time, but some friends of ours are taking their two-year-old, so I figure we can trade off walking them around in the lobby when they get restless. Either that, or we can leave them there and let them get adopted by the circus people. What kid wouldn't like that?

Covered in Drool Jeopardy

In true Jeopardy style, here are the answers:

1. He's 2, what do you expect?
2. He's obviously a spawn of the devil
3. You're obviously the world's most terrible mother

And here's the question. Why, in the course of the past four days, have I had this  conversation (or one very similar) with Drew, repeatedly?

Drew: Mama. Milk.

Me: Say please.

Drew: Peeeese milk.

Me: OK, I'll get you some milk.

Drew: NOOOOOOO MAMA! NO MILK! Joooce.

Me: You want juice instead? Say please.

Drew: Peese jooce.

Me: OK juice, coming right up.

Drew: (starting to cry) NOOOOOOOOOOOOO MAMA! NO JOOCE! Laaller.

Me: (dubiously) Water? You want water instead of juice or milk?

Drew: (still crying) Laller. Peese.

Me: (sigh) I don't think you really want water, Drew, but OK, here goes...

Drew: NOOOOOOOO MAMA! NO LAALER! NOOOOOOOOOOO LAAALLLER! (crying and banging his fists on the refrigerator)

Me: Drew. I'm trying very hard not to swear right now. What...do...you...want....to...drink? Milk or juice?

Drew: NOOOOO MILK! NOOOO JOOCE! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO! NO!

Me: Fine. Then let's go play in your playroom.

Drew: NO PAY! NO ROOM! (crumpling into a tearful heap on the kitchen floor)

Me: (gamely attempting to hug him) Sweety. Come on. Get up.

Drew: NO UP! NOOOOOOOOOOO UP!

Me: OK, then lay there and cry.

Drew: MAMA! UP! UP!

Me: (starting to pick him up)

Drew: NOOOOOOO MAMA! NO UP! DOWN! DOWN! JOOCE! MILK! LAALER!

Me: Fine. FINE FINE FINE FINE FINE. (pouring three sippy cups - one of juice, one of milk and one of water.) HERE. Pick a drink.

Drew: No dink, Mama.  Eat.

I won't get into what we went through trying to find something he would deign to eat.

Is this normal? Or has my previously easy-going child been possessed? Should I be consulting a priest? Will they even consider an exorcism if you aren't Catholic? Should I convert?

his first foreign word!

Unless you count "couscous", which I don't, then last night Drew said his first foreign word. I mean a real foreign word of which he actually seemed to know the meaning.

We were hanging out together in the rocking chair in my bedroom, winding him down for bedtime by watching the ever-present Dora and Diego, when he starts flapping his arms about like a wild turkey and singing, "Vuelo! Vuelo!" Sure enough, "vuelo" is the Spanish word for "flight".

Yes, I had to look it up online - so sue me. I didn't watch a hundred zillion hours of Dora The Explorer during my formative years.

By God, they may be annoying, but at least he's sort of learning something that may possibly be useful at some point in the distant future!

boots boots, my boots

Remember when I griped endlessly posted about a month ago about Drew's obsession with the movie 'Cars'?

I miss Cars.

I miss McQueen, and Lally, and Mack and the whole gang.

Yes, my son had a bit of a falling out with the wide-eyed talking racecar. I'm not sure what happened; he won't discuss it with me.

McQueen has been replaced, rather seamlessly, by a talking monkey and a precocious bilingual girl who repeats herself endlessly. "Can you say map? Say map! Say map! Map, dammit, map!"

A typical conversation with Drew lately goes something like this:

Drew: "Mama. Watch. Boots. Watch. Boots. Watch. Doe-Rah. Watch. Day-Go. Boots. Boots. Boots. Boots. Boots."

Me: "What about McQueen? Don't you miss that crazy Piston Cup champion? I do! Let's watch McQueen! Whadda ya say?"

Drew: "Noooooooooo Keen, Mama, noooooooo Keen. Watch. Boots."

But hey. I now know how to say "go", "map", "open" and "put a boot in that monkey's ass" in Spanish!

it's not over 'til the toddler sings

This morning on the way to work/daycare, Drew entertained us from the backseat with a rousing rendition of "Jingle Bells."

His version goes something like this:

(fortissimo): "GING-ULL BAY-ELL, GING-ULL BAY-ELL, GING-ULL BAY-ELL....WAAAAAY!!!"

<sigh> So festive. I could almost believe it's still Christmas. Please notice the way our son has easily grasped the correct Southern pronunciation of the word 'bell'...bay-ell. We're so proud.

Here are some holiday pictures, for your amusement and to help get you through the cold, dank dreariness that is January:

A few days before Christmas we baked some gingerbread cookies, stripped Drew down to his diaper and let him go to town with sprinkles, candies and great big oozing globs of frosting.

As you can see, he very quickly decided that eating the frosting was much more fun than decorating with it. He used the gingerbread cookie basically as a scoop for the frosting, until the cookie melted into gingerbread goop, at which point he would start anew with a fresh cookie.

The obligatory tot-with-the-stack-of-loot shots.  Drew really got into opening presents this year - once he figured out, "Hey! There's cool stuff in those boxes!" he felt the need to open everyone's boxes, and couldn't understand why some of us were getting all excited about such boring things as sweaters and cookware. Drew thinks everyone should get big plastic dump trucks for Christmas.

Here's what my life would look like if I had two children! Charles shudders every time he sees these pictures, which makes me giggle. That's my niece Annagrace whose nose is being bopped by Drew, by the way. She pretty much slept through her first Christmas.

I hope everyone had a great Christmas!