Date night

The Daddy Man was out of town for work today. He left at 7 a.m. and is just now on his way home (at 9:30 p.m.). So after Biscuit and I ran a couple of errands, I decided that we would go out for dinner.

Seeing as Mexican is a recent addition to Biscuit's food repertoire, we went to a place near our house where he had a quesadilla with black beans. He loves black beans. He will eat them from a bowl with a spoon. But for some reason, he didn't think they should be on his quesadilla. As long as he didn't see the beans, he ate them up and even said, "Mmmm. Good, Mama." But if he laid eyes on a bean, he picked it out.

There was a TV in one corner that was playing a baseball game. There were murals on the wall that included horses. There were several other babies having dinner there. There were a couple of trucks and motorcycles parked right out front. And on top of it all, Biscuit could see the moon.

What more could a boy ask for? In Biscuit's case, nothing! And neither could his Mama. It was a good night.

You think I'd know by now

Note to self: Don't take the diaper off until the tub is full of water.

If there's time between removing the diaper and placing Biscuit in the water, there will be pee in the floor. And someone will think it's very, very funny.

The wordsmith

I don't know whether to be impressed or freaked out.

Over the weekend, Biscuit said the following words out of the blue:

Volcano
Fireworks
Rainbow

Where did these words come from? Who knows!

Post-bath conversation

Jeff just finished giving Biscuit a bath. We went out for dinner and ran a couple of errands, so Biscuit got his bath a good bit later than usual.

He's teething, and for some reason, the bath just wasn't what he wanted. Biscuit cried most of the time through his bath.

As Jeff got him out and dried him off, I overheard this conversation:

Jeff: Biscuit, why were you so upset during your bath?

Biscuit continues to cry.

Jeff: Was it the bubbles? I thought you like bubbles.

Biscuit: Like bubbles, Dad. Bubbles.

Jeff: So it wasn't the bubbles that upset you?

Biscuit: No, Dad. Like bubbles.

Jeff: Are you feeling better now?

Biscuit: Feel better, Dad.

Go team!

I just got home from doing a little Christmas shopping.

Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm freakish to be shopping so early, but I did it by accident one year and realized how much more money I had to play with closer to Christmas. Then I was hooked. Actually, I'm running way behind compared to other years!

Anyway, I got home from shopping, and Biscuit and Jeff were sitting on the couch watching the Yankees game. Biscuit holds one of his wooden drumsticks in the batter's position as he watches the players. His Dada says he has an equally smooth swing from the right and left side of the plate.

"Whatcha doing, Biscuit?" I asked.

"Watch ballgame," he said.

"Who's playing?" I asked.

"Go Rankees," he said.

That's right, boy. GO RANKEES!!!

Funny stuff

It seems like sometimes days or weeks go by with Biscuit not doing anything new. And then there are weeks like the past couple, where it seems like he is saying or doing something new every day!

Here are a few of the funny things he's been up to lately:

"Bump, Mama. Bump." There's quite a good sized dip as you pull into the driveway at Biscuit's day care center. So every single morning, as we turn in, right before we hit the dip, Biscuit says, "Bump, Mama. Bump."

Counting steps. Biscuit has been able to count to 10 for a while now, but he's just now starting to understand the concept of the numbers - that instead of just reciting them, you can use numbers to count things. So now, every time we go up and down steps, we have to count them. It's fine on the doorsteps, but there comes a problem when there's a full flight of stairs. He only knows up to 10, so once he's done with those numbers, he gets a little confused. So he just starts naming numbers. ...8 step ...9 step ... 10 step ... 4 step ... 8 step ... 2 step ... 5 step ...

Red bird, red bird. Biscuit loves the book "Brown Bear, Brown Bear." The story goes "Brown Bear, Brown Bear, what do you see?" "I see a Red Bird looking at me." "Red Bird, Red Bird, what do you see?" "I see a White Dog looking at me." And it continues on and on through a bunch of animals. Biscuit now walks around saying, "Red Bud, Red Bud, what you see?" "I see Brown Bear look at me."

Yesterday, he carried it even further. We were at an office supply store having his birthday invitations printed. Biscuit was sitting in his stroller waiting patiently. All of a sudden, he said, "Red Bud, Red Bud, what you see?" "I see Melmo look at me." I looked down and realized he was talking to a little, plastic Elmo ring he was holding. I thought it was pretty smart of him to figure out the pattern and add in his own lines.

"Watch ballgame, Dada." Jeff wanted to watch a playoff baseball game the other night, but I wanted to watch, um, not baseball. I asked Biscuit, "Do you want to stay with Dada, or do you want to come with me?" Biscuit said, "Um, ballgame Dada?" "Yeah, boy. There's a ballgame on." Biscuit grinned, looked at me and said, "Dada!" What a shame. I had to sit all by myself on a king-size bed, surrounded by pillows, watching a girlie movie.

Mom and Dad. It seems like mine and Jeff's names change every once in a while. Sometimes we're Mama and Dada. Sometimes we're Kimmy and Jeff. And lately, we've been Mom and Dad (except it sounds more like Dat).

Our boy amazes us. He keeps us smiling and laughing every day.

For family

It's almost the middle of October, and this is the first blog post I've written this month.

We've been quite busy.

On Sept. 28, we drove 12 hours for a funeral in New York. Jeff's uncle passed away after a long battle with cancer. We were able to stay with Jeff's parents while we were there, so they had some time with us and Biscuit.

It was kind of an unusual situation because until the end of September, Jeff and I both had terminally ill uncles. And oddly enough, they both had the same first name and were both dying from cancer. It's an awful, painful way to go, and I can't imagine what they and their wives were going though. My uncle and his wife are still battling.

We've been talking about funerals and how we would handle the travel. My uncle is 2 1/2 hours away, and Jeff's uncle was 12 hours away. And with Biscuit in tow, we wanted to have some sort of plan in place to go when we needed to go.

We finagled our work schedules, using a combination of bereavement time and vacation. Then we packed our car full of clothes, baby gear, snacks and ... even though I said I'd never buy one of these ... a portable DVD player.

My reasoning was that my family took a cross-country car trip when my brother and I were kids, and we didn't have a DVD player! Well, I recently chewed on those words.

We stopped three times on the trip up - lunch, snack/bathroom and dinner. But even with stops, I realize 12 hours is a long time to be strapped into a car seat. We made it all the way to Pennsylvania before our little man got antsy. And as much as I protested DVD players in the car before, I didn't hesitate one minute to use it to entertain Biscuit.

Once we got to Jeff's parents' house, Biscuit walked around checking out the place (this was his first trip there). Then he got hugs from Grandma and Grandpa, and he was home. Our boy isn't shy. It doesn't take him long to treat a place like he owns it.

I hate that we made the trip for the reason we made it, but it was really nice to see family and let them meet Biscuit. I don't think he met a stranger. Wonder where he gets that from?!?

As much as we've hated to know our uncles were in bad shape, it truly does remind you to feel lucky about your own situation. Jeff and I are in good health, and so is Biscuit. We're lucky enough to have jobs and a nice home. We have friends and family who aren't too far away. Basically, we're living a good, good life.

And as we're facing deaths in our families, I hope we can remember them and grieve for them, but at the same time, realize how lucky we truly are.

Mama's new hat

Poor, Mama.

Try to take a Sunday afternoon nap, and this is what will happen to you. Biscuit will eat all the goldfish in his bowl and then set it on your head like a hat.

Poor, Mama.

Fun words

Here are a few funny things Biscuit's saying right now:

Hewi-caca: Helicopter

Go-go: Motorcycle

Shruck: Truck

Oc-puss: Octopus

Dah-in: Dolphin

Pap-pire: Pacifier

Max-Wuby: "Max and Ruby" (He says this when he wants to watch TV.)

Hunh?: He's figured out that when you speak to him, if he says "hunh," you'll repeat what you said. It has nothing to do with whether he hears you the first time or not.

Melk: Milk

Nake: Snake. Sssssssss.

Eh-uh: Elephant

Cah: He's not from Boston, but our boy "pahks his cah in Hahvahd yahd."

He gets his R's and W's mixed up, so he says "twain" instead of "train." And it "wains" instead of "rains." And he has some "fwogs" in his room. They say "wibbit." It's very cute.

I won't even discuss how he says "sit" and "fork." It wouldn't be polite!

But boy does he get mad and impatient when he's trying to tell you something and you can't understand him.

When he gets up in the morning, he has to name everything he sees in his room ... beah, twain, cah, fwog. Whatever he sees, he has to name it.

I think he's talking well for his age, and he talks a lot. I wonder where he got that from?!?

Everything hurts

I think I've created a monster.

Last week, Biscuit stubbed his toe on the coffee table, and to try to stop the crying, I told him to come over and let me kiss it and make it better.

Now, every time he even lightly taps a toe, finger, arm, whatever, he comes running over and says, "Kiss. Make better."

And even worse, he's decided that now, every time he doesn't like something, it hurts.

"Biscuit, eat your dinner," I said.

"Mouth huts, Mama," Biscuit said.

"Biscuit, help me stack up the books," I said.

"Ahm huts, Mama," Biscuit said.

"Let's go change your diaper, Biscuit," I said.

"Weg huts, Mama," Biscuit said.

So last night, I told him, "Biscuit, you need to quit crying wolf."

"Wuff," Biscuit said. "Dog. Wuff. Wuff."

They're all Josh

We went to a block party in our neighborhood, and I was a little worried because all the kids are a good bit older than Biscuit.

My worries were for naught. There were four boys between 8 and 13 who just couldn't get enough of Biscuit.

True, they did treat him at times more like a little pet than a little boy. They would pat him on the head and make a big fuss when they told him to sit down beside them and he did. But that's okay; they all seemed to have a good time.

All the boys had scooters. One of them lowered the handlebar as far as it would go, and let Biscuit play with it. Biscuit stood with his feet straddling the scooter platform and pushed it using the handlebars. I honestly think that Biscuit thought he was riding his scooter just like the bigger boys were.

I kept a close eye on Biscuit, not because I thought the boys wouldn't take care of him, but more because I think Biscuit thought he was just as big as them and could do everything they were doing, including tricks on the scooters.

I had to laugh, though, when one of the little boys came over to his mom and said, "Mom, he keeps calling me Josh."

I told the boy that he and Biscuit's cousin Josh were about the same size and had the same dark hair and haircut.

"But he's calling ALL of us, Josh," the boy said.

"Oh," I said. "Well, I guess that's better than him saying, 'Hey, you.'"

Bless this food

I'm teaching Biscuit a blessing to say before we eat. It's very simple, something I think he can learn with no problem. It goes ...

"Bless this food, for our good. Amen."

It started with me saying each word, and Biscuit repeating the words after me.

Then, he started saying some of the words a split second after me and some even at the same time as me.

Next, he figured out that if he let me say the word "good" at the end, he could skip right from "our" to "Amen." He was quite proud of himself.

But tonight was the kicker. Jeff and I laughed so hard.

Biscuit was saying the blessing with me, and I said, "for," but Biscuit had lost his concentration. So I repeated it. "For," I said, then he said, "five, six, seven, eight, nine, TEN!!!"

Jeff and I started laughing, and Biscuit just stared at us like we were crazy.

Then we got to the end, and I said, "Amen," and Biscuit said, "Awww, MAN!"

Not quite the same, Mr. Biscuit. But hey, it's a work in progress.

There's a parrot in the kitchen

I was trying to fuss at Jeff this morning. I won't go into the details, but it was something I felt strongly about, so the tone of my voice was serious.

Biscuit was still eating his breakfast, so he was sitting at the kitchen table. Since he was watching and listening, I wanted to make my point to Jeff without raising my voice or saying anything that would upset Biscuit.

"That's how I feel about it. Period." I said to Jeff.

Suddenly this little voice said, "Pewiod, Dada."

We looked at Biscuit, and he had a big grin on his face. Then I went back to making my point.

"It makes me worry, worry, worry," I said to Jeff.

"Wuwwy, Dada," Biscuit said.

That was it. Jeff and I both started laughing. No more discussion.

I told Jeff that we could finish talking later when I could go back to being mad at him.

"Hey, the boy was on your side. He was helping drive home your point," Jeff said.

So I'm thinking that next time there's a topic that needs to be discussed, I'm making sure Biscuit is in the room.

I.P. Daily

We haven't started potty training yet, but we're starting to talk about it.

I've read a few articles online, and I've been talking to some other mamas about how they went about getting started.

One article that I read suggested to let the child to watch someone of the same sex use the bathroom. That way, they can see exactly what happens.

So I asked Jeff if he would mind taking Biscuit with him when he went. He said he was fine with that.

The next day, Jeff and Biscuit headed into the bathroom. Jeff explained that he was going to pee-pee, and Griffin repeated the word "pee-pee."

I was sitting at the kitchen table, which is right outside the half-bath, and of course, Jeff didn't bother to close the door.

I heard Jeff continuing to explain to Biscuit what was happening, then all of a sudden, I heard, "Don't touch it! Don't touch it!"

I lost it. I started laughing so hard I was almost falling out of my chair.

As Jeff and Biscuit walked back into the kitchen, Jeff asked, "What's wrong with you? What's so funny?"

"What was going on in there?" I asked. "I heard you say, 'Don't touch it! Don't touch it!'"

"What's funny about that?" Jeff asked. "Biscuit was reaching down to touch the water in the toilet, and I was telling him not to do it."

Needless to say, the water in the toilet bowl wasn't my first thought about what he was touching.

Bite, please?

Even though Biscuit is in the toddler room at daycare now, his teacher from the infant room still stops in to see him.

Earlier in the week, she went out to pick up lunch (a 10-piece chicken nugget meal) and went into the toddler room to eat it so she could see Biscuit and some of the others who used to be in her class. The toddlers had already had their lunch, so they shouldn't have been hungry.

And they weren't ... except for one. Guess who?

Biscuit walked up to his old teacher and said, "Bite, peas?" And being the sweetie that she is, she gave him one of her chicken nuggets. He said thank you and then just stood there holding his nugget. Then she realized, he was waiting to dip his nugget in her barbecue sauce.

He dipped the nugget and walked away.

But then he came back.

"Bite, peas?" asking for another nugget. And she gave him one!

He did a repeat performance of holding his second nugget until she let him dip it in the barbecue sauce. Then he walked away.

BUT THEN HE CAME BACK! "Bite, peas?" asking for another nugget! And she gave it to him!

When she told me about it that afternoon, I scolded her. "You did not have to give him a good portion of your lunch," I told her. She said she couldn't help it because she was being sweet and saying please and thank you.

I sure do hate the he has such a rough life at daycare!

The mushy-gushy stuff

I try not to get too mushy-gushy in my blog entries, but I tell you what, I just had a coughing fit after getting choked on a drink, and my sweet baby was concerned.

I looked over at Biscuit and with a furrowed, little brow, he asked, "Okay, Mama? Okay?"

"Yes, baby. I'm fine. Thank you for asking," I said to him.

Sometimes you just can't help getting mushy-gushy.

Picture perfect

I love to take pictures of Biscuit (as any of you who get our online photo albums can see).

My Mama likes studio pictures. And so does my mother-in-law. But I am convinced that a studio could never get Biscuit's real personality on film (digital file?) like I can when we're playing in the backyard like it's any other day. Plus, I don't have back-to-back appointments with antsy little kids sitting in the waiting area. I can take as much time as I need.

So I've started looking at professional photographer's websites and copying some of the poses and situations that I think would work for Biscuit.

Here's my latest effort:

Learn, baby, learn

I love how much Biscuit is talking right now.

Sometimes it surprises us how he puts sentences together or uses new words. It's been such a gradual change, that we almost didn't even notice.

Sometimes Biscuit will do something, and Jeff and I end up looking at each other, like, "When did he start doing that?!?"

The other morning when we got to day care, this little boy walked up to Biscuit and said hey. Biscuit said, "Hey, Da-wus." (I looked at the teacher and asked what was that little boy's name. She said he was Darius. I know that Biscuit knows names. He knows the names of our family members and several of our friends. So it shouldn't have surprised me when he called this little boy by name. I mean, he does spend several hours a day with him. It seems logical that he would learn what to call the little boy. But just to hear him greet one of his little friends was pretty cool.

He's also recently learned that Jeff and I have names other than Mama and Dada.

Biscuit doesn't understand how the baby monitor works, so he thinks when he wakes up in the morning that he has to yell to us to come get him. Jeff and I usually let him call us a few times before we go up to his room. Actually, we usually lie in bed for a few more minutes laughing at our boy!

So the other morning, we heard Biscuit moving around through the monitor. Then he decided to call us. He said, "Mama. Mama. MAMA! Dada. Dada. DADA! Kimmy. Kimmy. KIMMY! Jeff. Jeff. JEFF!"

It takes longer to walk up the stairs when you're laughing your head off.

We also love how Biscuit phrases things. He was sitting in one of our dining room chairs tonight, and he put his leg between the rungs on the back of the chair.

He said, "Mama?"

I said, "What, baby?"

"My leg fell down," he said.

He said his leg fell down. It was a very descriptive thing to say. His leg had fallen down in a way.

When he thinks he's lost something or somebody, he'll ask, "Where is ...?" and fill in whatever it is he can't find.

When he does find it, since he doesn't understand pronouns, instead of saying "there it is" or "there she is," he just says, "There is."

And to the people who say kids don't learn anything by watching TV, I say "horse manure!" Biscuit watches the Nick Jr. channel on TV in the mornings while Jeff and I are getting ready. Yesterday, as we were leaving day care, we were following a little girl down the hall. Biscuit pointed at her backpack and said, "Kai-lan." She's a little Chinese girl who has a show about her grandfather and her friends and all the adventures they have.

He also identified Dora on a shirt in Target. And sometimes, he requests a specific show, like "Max and Ruby" or "Jack's Big Music Show." He's picked up that much information, and he honestly doesn't watch very much TV. I can see how easily kids can become couch potatoes.

As I'm writing this, Biscuit just counted to 10. I think you have to walk a fine line between helping them learn new things and stay stimulated vs. hounding them into learning, learning, learning.

And hey, if he takes after his Mama, talking will come naturally anyway ... no hounding needed.

Dreaming of you

After spending so much time with his cousin, Josh, I guess he stayed on Biscuit's mind for a few days.

Two nights after we got home, I heard Biscuit over the baby monitor sort of moaning and groaning almost like he was talking. I started to get up and go upstairs to check on him, but then I realized what was going on - he was dreaming.

While he was talking, he said, "Josh. Josh. JOSH." like he was looking for Josh but couldn't find him.

I called Josh and told him about it. He thought it was pretty cool.

Time with family

Let me back up a little bit and talk about Labor Day. My side of the family rented a house in the mountains, and we all stayed together from Friday until Monday.

Usually, my brother's family stays in their camper, and Jeff and I and my parents rent a hotel room. But it was really nice to be together in the same house. We took our own food, so meals weren't stressful. We had a huge backyard, so there was plenty of play space for the kids. A river ran along the back of the backyard, and it was shallow enough for us to play in the water. It was just a really nice place.

Biscuit and his three cousins all got along well, and it was fun to watch them interact with each other.

Josh is 6, and Biscuit loves him. He follows him around and tries to do everything Josh does. We had to explain to Josh to be careful because he had a little man who wanted to be just like him.

Alyssa is 8, and she LOVES Biscuit. She thinks Biscuit is a baby doll come to life. She wants to hold him and love him and hug him and squeeze him. She wants to help him do everything, but he has gotten really independent over the past few months, so he doesn't want her help at all. One of the most-uttered phrases over the weekend was Biscuit saying, "NO, SYSSA!" That's how he says her name ... Syssa.

Samantha is almost 12, and she is as tall as I am. She understands that Biscuit wants to do things on his own, so she plays with him and helps him when he asks her to. She gets to do things like teach him what a goat says (Meeeehhhhhh. And he made that noise at the goats at the fair.)

We built bonfires at night and roasted marshmallows. We hung out on the deck looking at the water and watching the donkeys on the farm across the river.

It was a good vacation, and I hope we can do it again soon.

Mama lessons

I hadn't really thought about this until last week, but I'm starting to understand the protective mother thing.

Of course, I want to take care of Biscuit. Feed him as well as I can. Dress him in weather-appropriate clothing. Give him lots of love. Help him learn new things. All the things that Mamas are supposed to do.

But there are some other things that have happened that I didn't expect.

Example No. 1? I killed a spider last week WITH MY BARE HAND!!!! because he was about to get on Biscuit. I'm not horribly afraid of spiders, but even so, I squished that sucker all over the palm of my hand to keep it from possibly hurting my boy.

But sometimes you don't get to squish the offending pest.

Last week as I was dropping Biscuit off at day care, this little red-headed kid named Luke came running over. I assumed he was coming to say hello, so I set Biscuit down in front of the little boy. Biscuit leaned over to pick up a ball, and as he stood back up, the little red-headed kid smacked the ball out of Biscuit's hands. HARD!

I was immediately taken aback, but I just stood there to see how Biscuit wanted to handle the situation. He said, "No. No. Ball." to the little boy and stooped over to pick the ball back up. Before Biscuit could stand upright, the little red-headed kid slammed a hard plastic car over Biscuit's head. I heard it pop, so I know it had to hurt.

I immediately snatched Biscuit up and held him close, telling him everything was okay. But I tell you what, I was ready to drop-kick that little red-headed kid through the wall. I was mad!

The teachers handled the situation very appropriately. I was completely satisfied as one of the teachers took the little boy out of the room and another teacher came over to dote on Biscuit.

I told the teacher that I probably shouldn't admit to it, but I was mad at that little kid. She said, "You have every right to be mad. He hit Biscuit for no reason whatsoever." And of course, that made me feel better for being mad at that little kid.

I think the hardest thing about being a Mama is that I won't always be able to take care of situations for my boy. I guess the best I can do is try to teach him right from wrong and hope he makes good decisions for himself.

The Fair - On Video

One of our friends got free passes and ride tickets to the local fair. All we had to pay for was food (corn dogs, sweet tea and funnel cakes to be more specific!). We all had a great time together. She also took some video with her fancy-dancy iPhone. Check it out:

Jeff took Biscuit on the big slide. They had to stand in line for a while, and I heard later that the stairs up the side of the thing were pretty rickety. You'll notice at the end that Biscuit takes off running? He was heading around the back to do it again. He doesn't understand the whole you-have-to-have-a-ticket and you-have-to-stand-in-line sort of stuff.



Did you know that there's a difference between a carousel and a merry-go-round? Carousels only have horses, but merry-go-rounds have all kinds of animals. It was news to me, too! Here's Biscuit and me on the carousel.



Beach music and french fries. What more could a kid want?!?



Biscuit gets excited ... REALLY excited about the goats.

There's a kid in my car!

Last Friday morning, Jeff and I were running late for work. Neither of us remembered to set our alarm clocks. So I woke up with a start and hit the floor running. And of course, it seemed like everything we needed to do to get ready took twice as long as usual.

We all got clean, brushed our teeth and put on our clothes. Then we had the discussion about who had what going on that day, and I was voted in as the "take Biscuit to day care" person.

Jeff left for work, and I buckled Biscuit into his car seat. We drove out of the neighborhood, and as we got on the main road, my mind started racing with all the things I needed to get done that day ... work-wise, home-wise, mama-wise, etc.

I turned onto a four-lane highway and set the cruise control as I headed to work. Then I heard this little voice say, "Truck, Mama. Truck."

OH, CRAP! There's a kid in my car!!!

I was more than halfway to work when I realized that Biscuit was still in the back seat! That four-lane highway I mentioned? I was never even supposed to get on that road. Day care is in another direction.

So, I turned on a side street and backtracked my way to Biscuit's day care. I was all flustered when I dropped him off. I told the director what had happened, and because she has three kids of her own, she just laughed and laughed.

"Hey, at least you didn't leave him at home or in the parked car in your work parking lot," she said.

Some days I think this Mama job has completely erased my memory and common sense!

My little helper

Biscuit likes to help. It makes him very proud of himself when he does something that warrants a big "thank you" from me or his Dada.

When we're doing laundry, he likes to help transfer the wet clothes to the dryer. Then he likes to close the dryer door so I can turn it on. Sometimes his "help" isn't exactly helpful. When we take the clothes out of the dryer and start folding them into piles, sometimes he jumps on the piles and rolls around. I love it when I have to fold the laundry twice (did you feel the sarcasm oozing out of that sentence?!?).

Biscuit also likes the help with the mail. When we get out of the car in the evening, we walk to the end of the driveway to the mailbox. Biscuit knows he has to stop where the driveway ends. I step out into the street and take the mail out of the box. Then I have to hand at least one piece to Biscuit so he can carry it in the house.

Today I learned that Biscuit helps at daycare, too. For story time, the kids have to sit on a big piece of carpet in the story area. As you know, Biscuit loves him some books. So they say he gets pretty excited about story time. So today, the teacher walked over to the story time area and started calling the other kids. She said she looked down, and Biscuit was standing right beside her, waving his hand and saying, "Moan to carpet, read book" to the other kids. (He doesn't say "come on" ... just "moan.")

Biscuit is also doing his part to save the Earth. He knows that cans go in the recycling can instead of the trash can. So when Jeff and I finish canned drinks, he likes to take the cans to the recycling bin. The first time it happened, I wasn't sure where he was taking the can. So I sat on the couch and listened closely. I heard him drop it right into the bin. I made sure to make a big fuss when he got back to the living room. And he looked very proud of himself.

And we're proud of him, too.

Food for thought

A post from The Daddy Man:

Kim was out running errands, and I put together a plate of leftovers for Biscuit's dinner. He had some macaroni and cheese and some oven-fried chicken.

I warmed it up, and the boy seemed hungry enough, but he only picked at his food while he was at the table. Then, he said, "Down, please."

I didn't think he had had enough to eat, so after he ran into the living room to play some more, I grabbed his plate and brought it with me. I sat on the couch and pretended to eat the food on Biscuit's plate. He's always very interested in having some of whatever is on everyone else's plate, so when he thought he saw me eating, he walked over and said, "Bite, bite, bite, please."

I gave him a bite then pretended to start eating again. "Bite, please. Bite." I gave him another bite and this continued until he had cleaned his plate.

I'm figuring out that sometimes parenting involves just a little bit of trickery.

Noise, noise and more noise

A lot of Biscuit's toys (most of them, actually) were gifts from friends and family. And I usually have a pretty good memory about where things came from.

So, when Biscuit plays with his toys, I often think of the people who gave them to him.

So ...

Thank you, Grandmama and Grandpapa for the push-toy popcorn popper. It's especially nice when we're watching a movie, and Biscuit decides to go pop-pop-popping round and round from the living room to the dining room to the kitchen to the hallway and back into the living room.

Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa for the music table. It plays instruments and sings songs and names letters and colors. It's lovely. Especially after you've heard the same thing over and over and over again. And also especially when Biscuit gets stuck on just a couple of the buttons, and the music table suddenly becomes a rap DJ table. B-b-b-b-b-b-lue circle. B-b-b-b-b-blue circle.

Then there's the carrot car. One of my friends got Biscuit a dragster that looks like a carrot. It has a removable rabbit driver. When you pop the rabbit back into the driver's seat, you get revving noises and tire-squealing noises. It's really cute ... for the first 12,000 times you hear it!

Another friend gave Biscuit a stuffed Easter duck that's wearing a rabbit costume. The duck is very soft, so Biscuit loves it when I attack him with it. The duck nuzzles Biscuit's neck, then he runs around yelling "Cack, cack, cack, cack!" (His way of saying "quack.")

Biscuit's aunt and uncle gave him an animated Eeyore that sings "If You're Happy and You Know It, Flap Your Ears" and "Do Your Ears Hang Low." Every time that donkey starts singing, Biscuit's face lights up like it's Christmas. You'd think I'd get tired of those songs, but it's actually still amusing to me. Of course, you can check back in six months and see if that's still my opinion.

Yet another friend gave Biscuit a cool toy that's kinda hard to describe. It has a twisty-turny tube that winds it's way around and down inside the toy. When you push the plunger on the side, air starts circulating through the tube and several balls start to bubble out of the top, then roll down a ramp back into the machine. I have to say, I like the way this toy works. But of course, it has obnoxious music and this loud humming noise that sounds like a small generator. A few times of watching the balls float out of this thing and back inside, I'm ready to flip the off switch.

My question is ... Why do the cool toys always have to make noise?!?

The land of nod

6:51 a.m. ... in the morning ... on a Saturday ... that's what time I got up this morning.

It's so not fair. Jeff and Biscuit were both still sleeping, and I say, if my boys are sleeping, I should be sleeping, too.

I remember when Biscuit was a wee tiny baby, and many of my mom friends told me to make sure I took naps when the baby took naps. I was never able to make that happen. I always found things that I needed or wanted to do more than sleep. But I swear, the older that child gets, the more I crave those naps I should've taken then.

I've never been much of a napper. They have usually left me feeling more groggy than refreshed. But lately, on the weekends, I've been sneaking in afternoon siestas when Biscuit goes to sleep. There's a little guilt there. I feel like I should be doing something productive, doing something I couldn't do if he was awake. But lately, the luxury and restorative power of those naps has sapped away that small bit of guilt.

As a matter of fact, Biscuit is napping right now, and I'm kinda mad that I'm in the process of doing laundry and writing this blog post instead of stealing a few winks!

Mind your manners

Our Biscuit baby is working hard on his manners. And we're very proud of him. Manners are important to both Jeff and me. We both had them drilled into us when we were kids, and we want to continue that tradition.

So far, we've worked on saying "please," "thank you," "you're welcome" and "bless you" (for sneezes).

Biscuit brings books to us and says, "Read book, please." Okay, actually, he says "Ree book, peas." But still, "please" is the important part.

When he's finished eating, Biscuit will say, "Down, please," for us to take him out of his high chair.

He also says, "Bite, please," when he wants some of whatever we have. That one is probably the most common of his mannerly phrases.

Biscuit struggles a little with "thank you" and "you're welcome." When we give him something, we'll say, "Say 'thank you.'" To which he usually says, "You're welcome." Or actually, "You wellwa."

He does say "thank you" when someone blesses his sneezes, though, and "bless you" when someone else sneezes. Jeff sneezed this morning, and here was the conversation:

Jeff: (sneezes)
Biscuit: Bless you, Dada.
Jeff: Thank you, Biscuit.
Biscuit: You wellwa.

Emily Post would be proud.

Happy husband

I think the sports genes are kicking in with Biscuit.

When shown a soccer picture, Biscuit says, "Kick ball."

When shown a golfer, Biscuit says, "Hit ball."

When shown a baseball player, Biscuit says, "Catch ball."

Yep. Husband is happy.

Sick but still funny

I had to take Biscuit to the doctor this evening at 6:40. Our appointment was at 6:40. I didn't even know doctors' offices stayed open that late.

Biscuit is okay. He has a sinus infection. Nothing 10 days of antibiotics won't take care of.

But he was so pitiful today. I was trying to work from home, but he just wanted to be in close contact at all times. It's hard to edit stories with a little one lying diagonally across your chest.

When we got to the doctor's office, we were the only people in the waiting room, and Biscuit decided that he needed to touch every chair in the place. There are probably 30 chairs in the waiting room, and he touched each one and said, "Chair" every time.

Then when the nurse came out and called Biscuit's name, he looked at her, put his hand on his chest and said, "Me." Yep, she's talking to you, Biscuit.

He stood on the big-boy scales ... 23 pounds. Then she took his temperature in his ear. "Good job," the nurse said. "Thank you," Biscuit said.

It seemed to take forever for the doctor to come in. We read several books, we named all the animals in the pictures on the walls. They had a wall chart to measure the kids' heights. It had cute monkeys on it that were holding flowers and bananas. I called Biscuit over to show it to him.

"Look at the monkeys, Biscuit. This one is holding a banana," I said to him.

"Niiiiice," he said. My little man still has his mojo, even when he's sick.

Two shows in two days

We just got back from our second car show this weekend. We had one last night that was a cruise-in, and one this afternoon that was a regular park-it-and-wait-for-it-to-be-judged kind of show.

Last night, we met a couple of friends and their son, who is 3 months younger than Biscuit. The town where they live blocks off main street after classic cars pull in diagonally down both sides of the street. Then people can just walk around checking out the rides.

It took Jeff and me longer than we thought it would to get to the show. We both got out of work later than we'd hoped, plus, we had to pick Biscuit up at day care, go home, change clothes, get the Barracuda out, then drive 30 minutes to the cruise-in. By the time we got there, they had already closed off the street.

We have to drive two cars when we go to shows because the Barracuda isn't equipped to handle a baby seat, plus, with Biscuit's history of ear infections, I really don't want him blowing in the wind from the back seat of a convertible.

So Biscuit and I found a parking spot in a bank parking lot. And as soon as I opened the back of the car, it hit me ... when I was packing to go to the lake last weekend, I took Biscuit's stroller out of the car. I was two blocks away from where the cars were, and even farther away from where our friends were. Luckily, as soon as Biscuit and I caught up with our friends, I had some toting help.

Jeff couldn't figure out how to get parked, so he asked a police officer. The guy told him that the only way he could get in was to go through the TV line. So here's Jeff, just arriving in town, and he hops right in line in front of all the other cars and gets on TV. My husband, the camera hog! Our friend sent us a link to the local cable TV channel so we could watch Jeff cruising through downtown and his interview with the show's host. They'll rebroadcast it from time to time until the next cruise-in.

By the time Jeff found a parking place, both kids were hungry, so we headed into a tasty burger joint. By the time we made it out of there, a lot of the cars were heading for home. They have several cruise-ins a year, so I guess we'll have to plan better for the next one.

The show we went to today was the 16th annual show for a local car club. Jeff entered the same show two years ago (and won a trophy). And he won a trophy today, too. This area is very Chevy and Ford laden, so when a Mopar shows up, it usually gets a lot of attention.

We met a really nice guy from one town over. His dad had given him the car he entered, just like Jeff's dad gave him his Barracuda. It was nice to talk to him, especially hearing him and Jeff both talk about how their cars have way more sentimental value than they ever will monetary value.

Biscuit took a quick nap during the afternoon, but for the most part, he was perfectly content sitting in his stroller looking around. Although, he did get a bigger kick out of the ducks, dogs and babies than the beautiful cars that were all around him!

After the trophies were handed out, Biscuit and I were heading back to our car. All the entrances but one were blocked off, so as we walked, all the cars started parading past us. I found a shady spot, and we stopped and just watch the cars come by. I explained to Biscuit what each car was and whether we liked it or not (and being a Ford girl from way back, I think I was pretty fair in including some Chevys on my list of what we liked).

I hope for Jeff's sake that our boy takes an interest in cars. If his behavior right now is any indication, I don't think I have anything to worry about!

Bad Mama!

I pulled into the driveway yesterday evening and started mine and Biscuit's evening routine.

I pack up all of my stuff and set it in the passenger seat. Then I get out and open Biscuit's door and get him out. Then we walk to the mailbox where I have to give him a letter of some sort to carry, then we head back to the front passenger seat of the car, grab my stuff and head into the house.

I'm routine oriented. This is what we do every day. So imagine my surprise when I opened Biscuit's door yesterday evening and see him just sitting in his car seat ... with NO STRAPS BUCKLED!!!!

I set him in his seat when I picked him up from day care and never fastened the straps on his seat. Me ... MRS. ROUTINE.

Thank goodness our ride home was uneventful. And that Biscuit isn't more rambunctious in his seat.

Of Poots and Poo

I realize that Biscuit will probably find some of these blog posts embarrassing one day. So, I'm going to share an embarrassing story about myself to help make up for it.

Here goes ...

I was standing in the kitchen one night last week. And I thought I was all by myself. I was already in my nightgown.

I didn't know it, but Biscuit was standing right behind me.

I farted. Yes, you read that right. I thought I was alone!

Biscuit then hiked up the tail of my gown, patted my butt, and said, "Poo, Mama? Poo?"

"No, baby. But thanks for asking," I said to him.

Mama time, Part 2

Remember when I talked about leaving my boys at home for the weekend so I could spend some time with my girlfriends at the lake? Well, my dear husband said I didn't tell the whole story.

I did only talk to Jeff and Biscuit on the phone a couple of times. But during those phone calls, I had a whole list of information to pass along to Jeff.

I'm a control freak. I'll be the first to admit it. I always have a plan in my head.

So when I heard that Jeff and Biscuit were going to a car show Saturday and a ballgame Sunday, I really, really, REALLY needed to impart the proper procedure of how everything should be done.

This is where I realize that I married exactly the right man.

"Jeff, I know that you are perfectly capable of handling Biscuit for a weekend, but can I go through the list for my own peace of mind?" I asked him.

"Yep. Shoot," Jeff said.

"You need to take your diaper bag, but make sure there are diapers, wipes, changing pads, a spare outfit, a sippy cup, a pacifier and some snacks," I told him.

"See? It's a good thing you ran through the list because I wouldn't have thought to take snacks," Jeff said.

I'm not sure if I really helped him get ready or if he was just appeasing his crazy wife! Either way, he knows me well enough to know how to keep me calm. And that's a good, good thing.

When Mama's away ...

When Mama's away, the boys will play. This is what I found out when I called home from my girls' lake weekend.

Friday night, Jeff and Biscuit stayed home and watched "Adam-12" DVDs. They had PB&J sandwiches for dinner.

Saturday afternoon, they went to a car show, then had pizza and bread sticks for dinner.

Sunday afternoon, Biscuit and Jeff went with one of Jeff's friends and his son to a minor league ballgame where Biscuit ate french fries from a cup with ketchup, of course. (Between my mother-in-law and my brother, Biscuit has mastered the art of dipping ... chicken nuggets in honey mustard, fries in ketchup, even hush puppies in BBQ sauce.)

Biscuit wore a borrowed hat until the sun went over the back of the stadium.

After the game, Jeff and Biscuit went to the gift shop, and Jeff bought Biscuit his own Hoppers baseball cap. And to say Biscuit liked it is an understatement.

When Jeff brought Biscuit home from day care Monday, Biscuit was wearing the hat. When Jeff changed Biscuit into pajamas that evening, Biscuit came right back into the living room and grabbed his hat.

Jeff teases me because I wear my hats down close to my eyes in the front. He always says, "You're rockin' that hat low, aren't you, babycakes?"

I guess I passed that along to Biscuit. He rocks his hat low, too. So low that he makes his ears stick out.

We keep trying to adjust it on his head so it won't crimp his ears down, but he'll just reach up and pull it right back where he wants it.

Oh yeah, and when my boys weren't out and about, they were partying in the bathroom. Check this out:

Mama time

I spent this past weekend with three girlfriends in a rented lake house. I went Friday evening after work and didn't return home until Monday evening.

Surprised? Yeah, me, too.

But look at the view. You would've stayed all that time, too!

When we were planning the trip, I wasn't sure how long I'd be able to stay. Part of that was because with kids, you never know. But also, I just didn't know if I could stay away that long. I've never been away from Biscuit that long.

There were several times throughout the weekend that I was tempted to pack up and come home. But every time that happened, I got out my laptop and looked at pictures and videos of Biscuit. I just kept telling myself that the trip was good for me (time for me to rest and recharge), good for Biscuit (to spend some time away from me) and good for Jeff (so he can see what it's like for me during basketball season!).

We carried lots of junk food, celebrity magazines, romance books and slouchy clothes. The other ladies spent some time in the water, but I made it as far as the floating dock at the end of the pier, and that was far enough for me!

I talked to my boys on the phone a few times, and I think they missed me. But not too much. They found plenty to do (see the next post).

When I got back Monday afternoon, I started the laundry and made a nice meal for dinner. Because Biscuit had junk food all weekend, he wanted nothing to do with the meat and veggies I set before him. So he pitched a fit at the dinner table.

Then as I was trying to get the table cleared and get my bags unpacked, it seemed like Jeff was in my way no matter which direction I turned. I had to go into our bedroom for a few minutes to regroup.

I had the whole weekend of worrying about nothing. I ate when I was hungry, not because the schedule said it was time. I slept when I was sleepy, not because I knew the alarm was going off in a few hours. I read more than a chapter at a time in my book. I sat on the deck just staring up into the trees. Basically, I had no responsibilities.

But then I had to step back into reality. And it was harder than I thought it would be. I was thinking about getting hugs and kisses, reading kid books and sitting at the dinner table together, but I wasn't prepared for the boys being in my way, nobody wanting the dinner I made and Biscuit having a bad day.

But I folded some laundry, went through some mail and put my cosmetics back in the bathroom, and then I got my groove back.

I missed my boys terribly while I was gone, but I also learned that a little time for Mama every now and then is certainly not a bad thing.

Our little man ... and I mean little

Check out Biscuit's in his new outfit.























Biscuit has a dresser drawer full of summer-season clothes that he can't wear. They're all too big. He's still smaller than most kids his age, and we've had a really hard time finding shorts for him.

The sizes generally go by age. Biscuit is 20 months old, but he wears 18-month shirts and 12-month shorts. He actually has a couple of pairs of 9-month shorts he can still wear. His waist is so little that when we put a pair of the 18-month shorts on him, he took off running and literally ran right out of them.

The outfit in the picture above is brand new. It's size 12-month. I told Jeff that I hate to buy new clothes so late in the season, but everything is on sale right now, and hey, the boy's gotta have something to wear that fits.

Eavesdropping

Sometimes when I hear Jeff and Biscuit interacting, I just stand outside the door and listen. They're so funny together. Here are three recent conversations:

Jeff was helping Biscuit eat breakfast. Biscuit had half a piece of toast left and decided that he needed to let his Hot Wheels truck drive over it.

Jeff: Biscuit. That is an off-road truck not an on-toast truck.

Biscuit: Yeah. Truck.

----------------------------------------

The three of us were on our way home from day care today, and Jeff noticed that a family's side yard was covered in kudzu.

Jeff: Wow. They have lots of kudzu.

Biscuit: Bless you, Dada.

----------------------------------------

Biscuit couldn't reach the cars he wanted, so he came in the living room to find Jeff.

Biscuit: Mone, Dada. Mone. Hope (which means help).

Jeff (after getting the cars down for Biscuit): Say thank you.

Biscuit: You're welcome.

Not nice

Biscuit was sitting on our bed earlier this evening, when he decided it would be fun to try walking around up there.

We have a king-size bed, and it's pretty high up off the floor. So high that I have a step stool to get up there. (Don't make fun. I'm short!)

It was actually funny, because we got that bed at the same time my nephew was moving into a big-boy bed, so we just called our bed my big-girl bed.

So anyway, Biscuit was walking around on my big-girl bed, and he was getting a little too close to the opposite edge. So Jeff told him to come over to his side. He grabbed Biscuit's arm and pulled him over closer.

Apparently, Biscuit didn't think this was a good thing to do. He looked at Jeff and said, "No, no, no! NOT nice!"

We be illin'

There are many things I love about our day care.

The multitude of random illnesses my sweet Biscuit baby brings home isn't one of them.

Colds and stomach bugs have plagued our house since he started, and from what I hear, this is a pretty common scenario. The funny thing is that the teachers and workers wash their hands. They wash the kids' hands. And they have all these safety measures in place.

But there's only so much you can do to ward off snotty-nosed, runny-butted little munchkins.

And thanks to those snotty-nosed, runny-butted little munchkins, I had to stay home from work today, and Biscuit has had massive, and I mean MASSIVE!!!! diaper issues. Just ask Jeff, he had to put our comforter, his clothes and Biscuit's clothes in the washing machine about an hour ago.

Hopefully, everything will come out in the wash. And after all, tomorrow is another day.

Look how much I've grown

We got Biscuit's pool out last weekend and saw just how much he's grown since last year. I found a bigger pool on markdown this week, so he'll have more room to play now.

Here he is last July and this July. Check out the difference.

Patience? Not with food

We haven’t had too many tantrums … thank goodness. But when we do, they’re usually good ones! You’d think the world was ending. And 9 times out of 10, it revolves around food. As in, Biscuit thinks we’re never going to feed him ever again!

Jeff and Biscuit met me out shopping last week, and as I headed to the check out counters, I realized it was later than I thought. I looked at Jeff and said, “What do you think about going to The Hut?” I couldn’t say “pizza” or “dinner” because Biscuit knows exactly what those words mean. And as sweet as he can be, he will melt down on the spot if we mention food and don’t have any to give him. Plus, I’ve discussed just how much our boy loves pizza.

Since Jeff had his own car, he headed over early, hoping that he could order, and it would be on the table by the time we got there. Wrong! The Hut was packed! Biscuit and I got there, and Jeff had just placed our order. It was already 7:15, so I knew Biscuit was hungry.

We were playing with his Hot Wheels cars on the table, and I thought we might be okay. And then it happened. The family behind me got their pizza. The family behind Jeff got their pizza. And the family out beside us got their pizza. All within 30 seconds.

Jeff and I looked at each other, then looked a Griffin. I think Jeff and I both physically winced knowing that it was coming. Biscuit could see their pizza. He could smell their pizza. And he had no idea why they all had pizza and he didn’t. “SEET-SAH!!!!! SEET-SAH!!!! SEEEEEEEET-SAAAAAAAAH!!!! he yelled, mixed in with sobs.

This is the same kid who rides 7 hours in the car to Georgia with no complaining. This is the same kid who spends an hour riding in the buggy around Target just naming over all the things he knows words for … dog, baby, car, ball.

But when it comes to food, THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS PATIENCE!!!!!

Finally, our pizza came. As the server put it on the table, Biscuit’s little eyes just lit up. There was a huge smile on his face. And then I said one of the words he hates most. “Hot. It’s too hot, baby.” And there he goes again.

He sees the pizza. He smells the pizza. The pizza is sitting right in front of his face, but he can’t have any? What?!?!? So I’m slicing and dicing and blowing on his pizza until I dang-near hyperventilated. I finally got a piece cooled off enough and shoved it in his mouth. “Mmmmm,” he said. “More? More?”

“Dang! I just got that piece cooled down.” Slice, dice, hyperventilate … slice, dice, hyperventilate … slice, dice, hyperventilate. Eventually, it was all cool enough for him to eat. And then he was back to my sweet little Biscuit.

This Week in Biscuit: The Collected Short Stories

Here are some things about Biscuit that have amused Jeff and me over the past couple of weeks.

Seet-sah: Have I mentioned that my Biscuit baby loves him some pizza? I make my own chicken nuggets. I cut chicken breasts into small pieces, dip them in an egg, then shake them up in a zip-top bag with seasoned bread crumbs and some Parmesan cheese.

And it just so happens that the pan that I use to cook them on (a large rectangle baking pan) is also the pan I use to make homemade pizza. The chicken chunks were ready to go in the oven, so I slid the baking pan out of the drawer, just as Biscuit walked into the room.

“Seet-sah!” he yelled.

“No, baby. I’m making chicken nuggets.”

“Seet-sah!” he said.

“No. Chicken,” I explained.

“Chitten?” he asked.

“Yes. Chicken.”

“Oh,” he says and walks out of the room.

Luckily, he felt just fine about eating “chitten” when it came out of the oven!

Blue: In Biscuit’s day care class, they have a color of the week. So he’s starting to notice colors more. One morning this week, Biscuit came out of our closet saying, “Blue, Mama. Blue.” And yes, what he was holding was definitely blue. My new blue bra. It’s a little unnerving to see a 20-month-old running around with a blue bra trailing behind him.

Shoes: This is probably a little more than you want to know about me, but one morning this week I was in the bathroom taking care of business, and I didn’t shut the door all the way. So SOMEbody (do I even need to name him?) decided that no bathroom trip would be complete without shoes.

So Biscuit went into my closet, dragged out an old blue flip-flop, yanked open the bathroom door and said, “Shoe. Shoe. Shoe, Mama.” I said, “Yep. That’s a shoe.” Then I had to put it on. I guess he thought I needed a matching pair because then he went back and got the other one, and I had to put it on, too.

Then a little later, as I was brushing my teeth (still wearing my old blue flip-flops), Biscuit picked out a different pair of flip-flops that I needed to wear. I told Jeff that it was like those divas who host the award shows, except instead of several costume changes during the show, I had several shoe changes as I was getting ready.

Going to his class: I already know the answer to this question, but I’ll ask it anyway … Should I be happy that Biscuit jumped from my arms in the day care lobby and ran to his classroom and started knocking on the door to get in, or should I be sad that he didn’t even say goodbye?

Smart boy: I said to Biscuit this morning, “You’re a smart little rascal.” He looked at me, smiled and said, “Thank you.” Wow. He’s smart AND polite? How did we do that?!?

Good ear: I think we’re raising a “car guy.” Biscuit can already tell the difference in sound between a big truck, a motorcycle and regular-ol’ cars. When he’s sitting at the table to eat and a big truck goes down the road behind our house, he tell us that it was a truck. And when it’s a motorcycle, he says (or at least attempts to say) motorcycle. So far, he hasn’t been wrong.

Putting it all together: Biscuit and I took a trip to Lowe's this week, and it was fun to hear his take on the store. First, we walked through the rows of refrigerators to get to the back of the store. Biscuit pointed at the fridges and went through his list of fridge-related items: "ju" (juice), "wa-wa" (water), "foot" (fruit).

Then as we were making our way around the store, my cell phone rang. Jeff assigned "Flight of the Valkyries" as the ringtone when he calls me. When the music started, Biscuit said, "Phone, Dada. Phone, Dada." He recognized the ringtone as being Jeff.

We made our way over to the aisle where the paint supplies are. As I was looking at the spray paint cans, Biscuit looked over and saw the fluffy paint roller refills. "Sheep, Mama. Sheep," he said. And by golly, it DID look like a sheep. So I said, "Yeah, sheep," and we made our way to the door.

Bye-bye wa-wa: Remember the bye-bye wa-wa trick we use to get Biscuit out of the bath tub? Well, I guess curiosity got the best of him this week because as the water was making its way down the drain, Biscuit laid on his belly in the tub and put his eye right down at the drain to see where the water went. Sometimes we're in a hurry to get things done, but I hope we'll remember to give Biscuit time to experience things. And I hope we'll give ourselves time to enjoy watching him do it.

I don't want to share!

I bet when you read the title of this post, you thought I was going to write about how Biscuit isn't sharing his toys.

Well, you'd be wrong. This post is about how Mama doesn't always want to share her food.

We got takeout from a nice Asian restaurant tonight, and even though Biscuit had his own dinner, he wanted "bite, bite" of everything I had. I had California wontons, which are wonton wrappers with crab meat, cream cheese and some spices, and there's a spicy-sweet sauce that you pour over them. He loved them. "Bite, Mama. Bite."

Then I had the Classic Honey Chicken with Brown Rice. He had to have some of that, too.

He had a couple of bites of Jeff's shrimp, but he liked MY crab wontons and MY honey chicken better.

I love that he's adventurous and eats more than mac 'n' cheese, but still, why doesn't he want to have my food when I have boring stuff like broccoli? Mama don't WANT to share her food all the time, especially the good stuff!

Beatles fan?

A friend of mine at work is a huge Beatles fan. She's also a huge Biscuit fan. When I tell her something cute that Biscuit did, the first thing she says is always, "And you got this on video, right?"

So, just for her, when we were watching a PBS special about Paul McCartney receiving the Gershwin Award this year, I recorded Biscuit enjoying the music.

With his drumming efforts, my friend wants him to be the next Ringo.

It's funny to watch him watching music on TV. He can't decide whether to dance or stand really still and listen. So he often alternates between the two. Outburst of dancing, followed by intense staring and concentration.

Good taste or creature of habit?

Our Biscuit loves cars. Any kind of cars: real ones, Hot Wheels cars, cars on TV, cars in books. If it has wheels, he loves it.

At a wedding over Easter weekend, he actually walked up to a man in a wheelchair, grabbed one of the wheels and said, "Vroom. Vroom." I just stood there for a minute to see how the man was going to respond. He smiled, and I said, "I'm sorry. To him, anything with wheels is a car." The man smiled and said, "Sounds good to me."

We've bought him some Hot Wheels cars over the past couple of months. I know they say they're for kids 3 and older, but so far, he seems to be fine with them. He doesn't put them in his mouth.

Although, I do worry because there's a family history with Hot Wheels incidents. Jeff was dared by a cousin to stick the wheel from a Hot Wheels car in his nose. And guess what? He did it. Then his mama had to take him to the doctor to get it out. So hopefully, Biscuit won't follow in his father's footsteps as far as Hot Wheels go.

This morning, I was getting ready for work, and Jeff was brushing Biscuit's teeth. As soon as they were finished, Biscuit started asking for his cars (he pronounces it cah, like he's from Bah-ston or something). Jeff set him on the floor and said, "Go! Go get your cars," and Biscuit took off running.

Jeff said, "I'll bet money that he'll come back with a green Mustang and a gold Charger." Sure enough, that's what he brought back. He showed those cars to Jeff, then took off running again. Jeff said, "Now he's going to get the red Mustang and the yellow Charger. Those are the ones I get to play with." And sure enough again, that's exactly what he came back with. Jeff said he grabs those four every time - a Mustang and a Charger for Dada and a Mustang and a Charger for himself.

So I wonder, does he just have good taste in cars? Is he trying to appease both parents (I'm a Ford girl and Jeff is a Mopar guy)? Or if he just a creature of habit and knows what he likes? No telling.

Oh no! The boat!!

We're watching Gregory Peck in "Captain Horatio Hornblower." When the Spanish ship started firing on the English boat, Biscuit started yelling, "OH, NO!! THE BOAT!!!" over and over.

After a few minutes, he started sifting through his books and pulled out a book about a dog pretending to be a pirate on a ship. He handed it to Jeff and said, "Boat."

He's a smart boy.

Weekend funnies

You thought you could only find the funnies in the Sunday paper, but our Biscuit provided the funnies at our house this weekend.

Biscuit was tugging on my arm while I was trying to send an e-mail Saturday. I told him he'd have to wait, but that's not what he wanted to hear. Jeff stole a line from one of Biscuit's books and said loudly, "I WANT SOME PEANUTS!!!"

Jeff was referring to a book that Biscuit has about manners and saying please. The little elephant who yells about the peanuts doesn't get what she wants because she's being rude and impatient.

But just from that one line, Biscuit realized exactly what Jeff was talking about, walked over to the shelf where all his books are and sorted through the 50 or so volumes until he found the exact book Jeff was quoting from.

If anyone had any doubt about whether we read to the boy or not, I think that answers the question.

Biscuit had a bath Saturday night, so when we got ready to go out and run some errands Sunday, I asked Jeff if he'd give Biscuit a quick sponge bath. But while I was in the shower, Biscuit walked over to the tub and yelled for Jeff. "Dada! Dada!"

Jeff came in the bathroom, and Biscuit pointed at the tub and said, "Wawa. Wawa, Dada." He was asking if he could have a bath. Jeff put water in the tub and gave the boy a bath. Of course, Jeff got quite a bath, too. I'm not sure who was wetter - him or Biscuit.

I told Jeff to be sure and remember Biscuit actually asking for a bath. One day soon, he'll be fighting us tooth and nail to try to get out of it.

After we ran our errands, we stopped by and got milkshakes. Mine was peanut butter fudge. As we walked into the house, the phone was ringing, and it was for me. I set my milkshake on the kitchen table and went into our bedroom to talk.

While I was still on the phone, Jeff said, "Kimmy, can you come into the kitchen?" As I walked around the corner, SOMEbody was sitting in the floor just slurping away on my peanut butter fudge milkshake! He had helped himself to a good bit of it already.

I thought the kitchen table was still out of Biscuit's reach. Apparently, I was wrong.

The one good part was that as I looked down at him, he pulled the straw out of his mouth, looked me in the eye and said, "Peas, Mama. Peas?" At least he was polite as he was stealing my treat.

Oh, and needless to say, Biscuit was bouncing off the walls from the sugar and chocolate and didn't go to bed until after 11 p.m.!

Biscuit gives us a lot to laugh at. I hope we can keep him laughing over the years the same way he does for us now.

More horses

Remember how much Biscuit loves horses? Well, here's evidence.

Here, he plays with one of his cousin's stuff animals ... a horse.
























Here, he attempts to RIDE the horse. Seems like the proportions might be a little off here.

Ouchie!

I got a call from day care today. Biscuit tripped over a toy and busted up his mouth. They said he was okay, but I needed to see him myself.

I picked him up, and he was so pitiful. Then I looked at his teachers, and they were pitiful, too. They were really worried about him.

I looked at his mouth, and although his lip is puffy and had been bleeding, there doesn't seem to be any damage bad enough for a doctor.

Meanwhile, of COURSE I had to take a picture of it. My poor little Biscuit!

Biscuit runs for office

This is real. A friend sent it to me from his town newspaper's website.

"It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World"

I came home from dinner with the girls this evening to find my boys watching "It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World."

Apparently, Biscuit was quite taken with it. He loved all the modes of transportation, and for some reason, he took a liking to Ethel Merman.

It'll be fun to see what kinds of movies, music and reading materials Biscuit likes as he gets older. His Dada loves anything black and white - movies, TV shows and newspapers. My taste runs all over the place, so hopefully, I can expose him to a lot of stuff.

One thing that's funny ... I just checked out when "It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World" was made, and it was before I was born. 1963. It beat me by five years.

Yep, it's that old. I guess you could say the movie and I are both classics!

All we needed was apple pie

We decided to celebrate the Fourth of July by taking part in some American traditions: We went to a baseball game where we ate hot dogs and watched fireworks. All we needed to make it complete was some apple pie (maybe we'll just pretend the funnel cake we ate had apples on it).

When I was picking out Biscuit's clothes for the evening, I asked Jeff if Biscuit should be patriotic or show some team spirit toward the Greensboro Grasshoppers. We opted for team spirit. And except for the pacifier that he's suddenly latched back on to, I'd say he's looking pretty cute.

Biscuit was so good during the whole game. He watched all the people around us and especially loved the mascot.

We had really good seats. A couple of our friends have season tickets, and they weren't going to use them. We were right behind home plate.

The guy who owns the Hoppers has two black labs that he brings to the games. One of the dogs, named Babe Ruth, runs out and fetches the bats after the Hoppers players hit.

The other dog, Yogi Berra, is a little younger and not quite as trained as Babe Ruth. He was supposed to fetch a ball as part of a game between innings, but he wasn't interested at all. They finally just had to pick a winner.

But it didn't matter whether the dogs got it right or not, our Biscuit baby loves him some dogs. He would stand up on our laps and yell, "DOG! DOG! DOG! WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!"

The only problem we had during the game was that as Biscuit was sitting in our laps, his feet were at the perfect height to put his feet on the guys in front of us. That was bad enough, but then we realized that the guys in front of us were pitchers for the opposing team. So not only were they periodically getting poked with little toes, but it was by a kid wearing the other team's logo on his shirt.

I was a little nervous about how Biscuit would respond to the fireworks, so right before they started, I told him there were going to be loud booms. He said, "Boom, mama." And I said, "Yes. Boom."

I cupped my hands over his ears just in case it was too loud for him, but as soon as they started lighting up the sky, Biscuit starting doing the Spoon Dance. He was shimmying back and forth just like he does when he tastes something he likes. A couple of times, he pulled my hands away from his ears, then the fireworks would make a loud boom, and he'd put my hands back.

It was going on 11 p.m. by the time we got to the car, but Biscuit was still awake. He's a nosy little thing and wanted to make sure he didn't miss anything. By the time we got home, he was fast asleep. He tried to open his eyes while I changed him into his pajamas, but his eyes just kept fluttering shut. And as soon as he hit the sheets, he was out.

Happy July 4th!

Not only is today Grandma Mills' birthday, it's our country's birthday, too.

And to borrow from the Declaration of Independence, Biscuit is definitely working on "the pursuit of happiness" as he plays in the kiddie pool at a friend's cookout.

Proof of the Potty Mouth

Last week it was "whore" instead of "horse." This week, it's "Hey, ho" instead of "hello."

Told ya. My boy has a potty mouth. Luckily, for right now, it's completely unintentional.




Here are some outtakes. They never do or say what you want them to when you finally have the video camera pointed at them! (Sorry for the too-quick zooming. I seemed to have an itchy trigger finger with the video camera this time.)