More Horrible Parenting on My Part

Sigrid took her first forward-facing ride in the stroller today! She seemed to think it was a good thing, what with all her smiling and foot-kicking and lack of crying, but she's wrong. It's stunting her language development, dontcha know. It is my parental duty to interact with her AT ALL TIMES. Even now. She's been napping in the stroller for a good 2.5 hours now, but I should probably be keeping her awake so I can talk to her and keep her on the college-bound track.

Just think how much more verbal Soren could be if we'd kept him rear-facing in the stroller all this time. The mind boggles.

Quotable

Soren has developed a slight fondness for Cars (the Pixar movie), maybe because it's the only movie we own, but also probably because it has cars in it. He asks to see it more than once a day, generally, but I'm trying to oblige him only every other day. Or else I will go insane.

At this point, he's seen the movie enough to be able to quote parts of it, which scares me a little. The thing I love, though, is that he picks the most mundane lines to quote, at completely random times during the day. At the breakfast table last week, he busted out with, "The Jeep says, 'WHAT travelers?!?!'" Well... yes, the Jeep does say that. I never thought of it as particularly memorable, but the Jeep does say it pretty loudly, so maybe toddlers are like parrots and mostly like to repeat things that have been said emphatically. This explains both toddlers' and parrots' fondness for dropping f-bombs. Which Soren has never done, thank you very much, in case you were wondering.

Yesterday, in the car, Soren started repeating, "The red car says, 'IS IT GETTING DARK OUT?'" Another accurate quote. Actually, he'd been talking about the weather right before he said that, and he'd asked me if it was sunny outside, so I guess he jumped from that thought to the movie quote. Kind of like when a bunch of our friends get together, and one of us happens to say, "That's bad," and then we have to jump into the whole Cursed Squishy routine from the Simpsons. Yep. That's my boy.

Where's my Mac and Cheese?

Alternate title: Get Back in the Kitchen Where You Belong, Mama

The other night, Soren was hungry and I was lazy (Sleepy, Dopey, Grumpy and Doc were out clubbing), so I told him I'd make him some macaroni and cheese. The Annie's kind, not the neon orange (and super tasty) kind. Don't judge me. Anyway, I apparently haven't learned my lesson yet, said lesson being: don't tell Soren you're going to give him something until it's on a plate and being carried toward him. Or else he will spend the next fifteen minutes repeating some variation of "Where's my mac and cheese? I want my mac and cheese. Where's my mac and cheese, Mama? Can I have mac and cheese?" Etc.

He asked mac-and-cheese-related questions for a few minutes while I was waiting for the water to boil, and then went off to play. After I put the noodles in, I went out to see how he was doing. As soon as he noticed me watching him, he got up and started saying "Go away, Mama! Go away!" And then he started PUSHING me. Which made me laugh, actually, because whatever. I'm huge. Anyway, I asked him where he wanted me to go, exactly, and he pointed toward the stove. "Go over there, Mama! Make my mac and cheese!"

OhohoHO.

I tried to explain that there was cooking going on without me, but he was pretty sure I was shirking, so I eventually gave up and stirred the pot a couple times to get His Highness off my back. We'll have a heart to heart about bossiness some other time. When I'm feeling less lazy, perhaps.

Soren Knows Just What to Say...

...to butter Mama up.

We were, once again, reading the newspaper at the breakfast table this morning, and Soren saw a full-page color ad for a Turner exhibit at the Met. He pointed to the painting and said, "What's that?" So I told him it was a painting. Then he asked, "Mama painted that? Did Mama do that one?" Aw, shucks, well... no. But it's really nice of him to think I'm capable of such things. Not that he's ever seen me draw anything except hearts (at his request) and trucks (yeah, you guessed it).

Soren Reads the Times

Chris is usually reading the newspaper at the dining room table when Soren and I come down for breakfast in the morning, and we occasionally get some good toddler comments on the latest world happenings. Or at least the pictures of said happenings.

This morning, Soren was looking at the front page of the arts section and saying, "That's a brown bee. That's a brown bee, Daddy." Chris was like, Whuh? But then he looked more closely and saw that Soren was pointing to a photo of a ring-tailed lemur. Brown bee, indeed.

When I got my turn with the paper, Soren pointed to a photo on the front page and asked, "Who's that? Who's that man?" I said, "It's Matthew Tannin."

"That's Mafu Taddin." Then he asked, "What's he doing?"

"He's... riding in a car." He was actually being placed into a police cruiser by an officer, but, you know, details.

"He's driving a car! He's happy!"

Sweet, innocent little boy.

The Good Host

Soren showed off his hospitality and conversation skills yesterday! We were just getting home from daycare when our neighbor, Mrs. Moon, came by to give Soren a present -- a copy of The Three Billy Goats Gruff. Soren was understandably pleased to get a present, and decided to reciprocate: "Mrs. Moon come-a Soren's house!" So we invited Mrs. Moon in, and after a quick tour of his toy collection ("That's a truck!") and a request for a snack ("Mama, I need raisins! ....please!"), he patted the couch and said, "Mrs. Moon! Sit-you right here," (I love it when he says "sit-you") and then offered her a blanket. She asked if he would like her to read his new book, to which the answer was "Oh! Okay!" He listened attentively and occasionally held up a raisin: "That's a big raisin!"

For the rest of the evening, he was saying "Trip trap trip trap! Who's crossing over my bridge? That's Mama's bridge!" I hope that doesn't mean he thinks I'm a troll.

Cool Truck

Yesterday evening, while driving home from dinner, we passed a guy in aviator goggles driving a kit car (kind of looked like a souped up Model A with no top). This did not escape Soren's notice. He shouted, punctuating each word with a two-handed thigh-slap, "There's! A! Man! Driving! A! Truck!" (If it's that exciting, it must be a truck) And then, over and over: "That's a cool truck! That's a cool truck! That's a cool truck!" Me: "You like the cool car?" Soren: "Yike-a cool car."

When we got home, Chris asked Soren whether Daddy had a cool car. Soren was diplomatically silent on that point.

Soren at Gramma's House

My mom took this video while Chris and I were in Hawaii. I missed him while we were away, of course, but it was so cool to get to talk to him on the phone! He's pretty good at holding a conversation.

Wanted: Shower

Alternative title: Boring Crap about Water Heaters

Boy, the outpouring of personal secrets in my last post was just exhausting! Or maybe it was the romantic evening Chris and I spent on Sunday, cleaning wet boxes out of the basement because it turned out that there was a fair bit of water down there, and we thought it was flooding from all the rain we'd just had, but then we figured out that our water heater wasn't so much storing water as just giving it a place to rest on its journey to the floor, so we're getting a new water heater installed today. Sadly, we're not going tankless, because emergency water heater replacement isn't really the time to switch systems, but it would probably be prudent to schedule a tankless installation for March 11th, 2017, if everything I hear about water heaters' life spans is true.

The water heater at our house in Providence was over 40 years old. They just don't make 'em like they used to. On the other hand, they invented "efficiency" sometime in the last 40 years, so it probably would have been worth replacing.

For the Soren groupies out there, here's his latest milestone: forgetting people's names! Seth came over for dinner on Sunday, and Soren kept calling him "Steven" (he even told me that he wanted Steven to come over the next day). We had some friends over last night, and Soren kept calling their daughter "Molly" (her name is Brooke). I think there's a Molly in the preschool group at his day care, but I don't know any Stevens, so I don't know where he got that one.

Sorry about the boring post. Maybe we'll take a big trip to California tomorrow, just to liven things up. And then maybe I'll leave Soren in the capable hands of Gramma while I fly out to meet Chris in Hawaii. Yeah, that sounds good.

Happy Birthday, Daddy!

Yesterday was Chris's birthday! Yay! Soren and I worked together to make him a card -- Soren colored it with markers and instructed me to draw two hearts on it; then I wrote "Happy Birthday" along the top, and then asked Soren if I should write "For Daddy". His response?

"Yeah. Five Daddy!"

So the card says "For Daddy... Five Daddy". Silly boy.

The Wheels on the Bus

Soren cried this morning when I dropped him off at school :^( But apparently, a few minutes after I left, he asked his teacher for a diaper change, and then he was fine. He usually hates diaper changes, but will occasionally ask for one, which is funny.

It's been a while since I posted a video, so here's some footage of Soren singing his favorite song!

Zhiboo Bauws

Stupid people make me mad, so I should really never drive, but I'm occasionally forced to. I know that every region of the country, except possibly the midwest, claims to have the worst drivers in the nation, but the northeast really does have the worst drivers. Is the line of cars at the stop light too long? Just pull up along the right-hand side and zoom to the front when the light turns green! Need to make a left turn? Just go! Don't worry about the oncoming traffic! Traffic jam on the freeway? That's what the shoulder is for! Etc.

Slightly less dangerous, I suppose, but no less annoying, are the psychos on the highway who ride my bumper in the middle lane, waiting for the slow lane to clear out so they can pass me on the right. Meanwhile, the left lane is completely deserted. This is in accordance with the apparently widespread belief that you can drive as fast as you want on the highway, but as long as you never go into the leftmost lane, you will never be pulled over. Why would cops look in the slow lane for speeders? Only SLOW people drive there! It's the perfect hiding spot!

So, anyway, there are lots of things that raise my blood pressure when I'm driving, but it's a lot easier to deal with all of it when there's a sweet little boy in the back seat, chattering away to himself about all the things he'd done earlier in the day and singing little songs. Last night, I could hear him back there saying "Margot. House. Baby. Toys. Truck. Baby truck. Train. Thomas." And then he started saying this, over and over:

Zhiboo Bauws
Zhiboo Bauws
Zhiboo Bauws
Zhiboo Bauws
Zhiboo Bauws
Awww-wayyyy

He was singing Jingle Bells. He is so freaking cute! I can't stand it!

Oh, THAT'S Why People Have Kids!

Slave labor! I'm getting Soren trained early. He picked up his first snow shovel today, and was thrilled to help Mama pick up snow and throw it (although his method was more like "push snow and drop it"). We did some token shoveling, and then went for a walk, but didn't get very far before he started saying "mall shuvva" ("small shovel" -- he was using the little retractable shovel that usually lives in the car), so we turned around and did some more shoveling.

I'll try to get some pictures tomorrow. He's a funny boy.

Insights into the Toddler Mind

Soren's vocabulary is growing every day, and I think it's just the coolest thing. I love knowing what he's thinking about.

The funniest thing he does at the moment: he throws his arm into the air and announces "DONE!" when he feels it's time to move on to a different activity. It started as a way to tell me when he was finished eating, but now he's expanded its use to try to put an end to diaper changes, shopping trips, naps, and visits to friends' houses (sorry, AlaskanMama! Nothing personal, I'm sure!). He says "DONE!" as soon as his butt hits the changing table. Nice try.

He's in his crib right now, saying "Done. Mama. Done. Mama." However, I haven't heard any actual napping going on yet, so I'm going to ignore him. If I ignore him for five minutes or so and he still wants to get up, he'll get truly desperate and start asking for Daddy.

He's been a total wuss about going outside lately, which is bugging me because I would like to see the sun occasionally during my six-hour window of opportunity, and I can't really go for a walk without him. I bring him out anyway, trying to play up the fun and excitement of tromping around in the snow, but he's not buying it. He puts up with it for about 8.5 minutes before starting up with "House. House. Book. Lap. Book. Lap." Which, okay, is really freaking cute. My little boy is telling me that he'd rather be in the house, sitting on my lap and reading a book. I love that. It almost makes up for his bizarre distaste for sledding.

In other news, we went to a craft bazaar gift extravaganza thing last weekend and got two excellent Alaskan souvenirs: a cribbage board made out of a caribou antler, and a hammered iron fire poker with a little Dall sheep head on the top (not a real sheep head... it's also made of iron... just wanted to make that clear).

OH OH OH AND we have some real actual moose meat in the freezer! Chris managed to pick some up on his trip to Fairbanks! Plz send moose recipes kthx.

Spaghetti

I was impressed the other day when Soren started saying "ball" -- but he seems to have moved on fairly quickly to more complicated words.

Soren's Vocabulary, This Time With Video

Yes, Soren can say English words as well as animal noises. The problem is, when I ask him to say them, he thinks he's going to get something. Cheese, for instance.



Grammy and Grampy Anderson were nice enough to visit us last week, and they took care of Soren while Chris and I went to Denali -- they taught him "This little piggy went to market," and now he says "weee weee weee" when you ask him what his piggies say (or when he sees toes). It's so freaking cute.