Hammer Golf

So Tuesday I was relaxing on the couch after a long day at work when I heard a familiar sound: WHACK!
Next I heard what sounded like a ball rolling across the floor before crashing into the wall, then there was a giggle.
Tate had been playing in his room, but wandered into the living room. As he rounded the corner I spotted a toy hammer in his right hand.
Just as I suspected, Hammer Golf.
Hammer Golf is a game that one might say was born of necessity. Last spring Tate got a toy golf club set as an Easter gift. It didn't take long for my little bruiser to break 2 of the 3 clubs that came with the set. The third was hidden after Tate invented another game we call Whack the Dog.
With no clubs left my little innovator had to come up with something to hit those little plastic golf clubs with.

Future Farmer of America

The other day we were all hanging out at the house when I noticed it was awfully quiet. The two of them had quietly retired to the study. The door was slightly cracked so I peeked in to see what was going on. Tate was sitting in Chuck's lap, both engrossed in something on the computer screen. What are they looking at? I just had to know!
I let myself in and asked, "what are you guys doing?"
The answer: "farming."
My little guy was helping his dad on the farm, the Farmville farm that is. OMG! I think farming is dumb, but Tate seemed to enjoy clicking the mouse and occasionally "play typing."
"It's working," Tate squealed at one point while the guys clicking the mouse to plow a field (I think?).
Honestly, I'm not sure who was having more fun. Plus, it did my heart good too to see my guys genuinely enjoying some quality time together... even if they were farmin'.

Snow Day

So today was the first, and hopefully the last, snow day of 2010. Tate and I enjoyed some cartoons in our PJs until mid-morning before wandering outside to play in the snow. Once outside Tate was mesmerized.
"It's snowing!"
"No baby, it already snowed," I explained.
We roamed around the backyard for a minute before deciding to head around front where the wind was not at fierce.
On the front side of the house Tate kept pointing at my car and saying "machine." (I guess he took in a few too many episodes of Scooby Doo, complete with the Mystery Machine, on Christmas Break.)
The little man is lingering around my car so I show him how, because the snow was so powdery, you can wipe it right off.
Oops!
He took it upon himself to remove all the snow from the molding above the wheel wells, back bumper and hitch on the back half of my car.


Eventually he lost interest in the snow removal project.
Walking along the driveway in his rain boots he noticed he was making tracks. So... he starts to stomp, stomp, stomp...


and then takes a moment to admire his work.


After the stomping we ventured out into the road, mainly because I was curious if there was any ice under the snow. There was. But just a tinsy, winsy bit.
We kind of slipped and slid a little, but never went crashing down.



Once safely inside Tate immediately ripped his hat off and began the task of peeling off the layers I had carefully dressed him in in an effort to keep him warm. Shaking off the cold myself, I caught a glimpse of Tate and I couldn't help myself. Even though he said he needed to go potty, I had to snap a few pictures of his hat hair.


Even with crazy hair he's still cute as a bug!

Fish update

As we were getting ready to turn in for the evening Chuck spotted it -- the first fish to swim belly up in Tate's aquarium. Flipper, we'll call him Flipper because know one should be laid to rest without a name. So Flipper was buried at sea, or at least in the greater Jonesboro sewer system.
Tate doesn't know yet. I'm not sure how he'll take it. He actually helped Chuck feed them this afternoon. He's a tough kid. It probably won't even phase him. No condolence cards, please.

Tate's first pet

For Christmas Tate got an aquarium (among other things). Chuck set it up on Christmas day with the promise that Tate would get a fish very, very soon. Well Chuck left the day after Christmas on a scuba diving trip in Florida. Chuck and I talked about it and decided to wait until we were all together before buying a fish. Today was the big day!
After a late lunch we headed to Petco for what I suspect will be the first of many trips in the name of one of Tate's pets.


Tate was super excited about picking out a fish. Chuck and I both asked Tate several times, 'which one do you want?"
He kept going from tank to tank saying "that one... that one!"
Eventually, after Chuck talked with Jeff, the fish expert at the pet store, we decided on guppies. Obviously not my first pick, but apparently they are hard to kill. Instead they will reproduce, and if we need to thin out our fish population we can take them to Petco.



All settled in their new home are 2 male and 2 female guppies. For now. We don't have names for any of them yet. I'm sure there will be updates!

He's a Natural

For the past several weeks Tate and I have been logging several hours piled up in my bed watching cartoons as I've been muttling through first trimester fatigue. My bed just seems way more comfy than lounging on the couch.
Anyhow, one night last week we made the long journey up the stairs and to my pregnancy den. I was ironing and Tate was watching TV. Correction, Tate was not digging anything on TV.
My first effort Cartoon Network - which for whatever reason lately seems to air fewer cartoons than most channels (ARGH!) - failed. There was some cheesy adolescent movie on.
On to Disney Channel... Hannah Montana... no thank you.
We click on down to Nick.
Nope.
I flip down several more channels.
Oh, basketball!
Not so much.
Eventually I got sick of the whining and the "no, that one," which was excellent the opposite of what he meant.
So what do I do? At the time I thought it was a stroke of genius. I relinquish control of the remote.
"Here Tate, find something you want to watch. Hit that button to change the channel."
You would have thought I handed the kid the keys to the candy store.
My little man discovered the joy of channel surfing.
For a solid 10 minutes my little munchkin changed the channel again and again and again. He didn't stop, just kept on flipping, mesmerized... I'm not sure by what, but definitely mesmerized.
Maybe it was the blur of shapes and colors or simply the power that accompanies the remote.
Being the photo-happy mama that I am I dashed for my camera and snapped a couple of pictures to capture the moment.
I think he looks a lot like his daddy here. What do you think?

Decorating the tree

Though this will be Tate's third Christmas this was the first year he helped decorate the tree.

He did a really good job. We did, however, relegate him to the cheesy satin balls Chuck and I bought for our first Christmas tree. We saved the more delicate ornaments for adults hands and a higher spot on the tree.

I think my little guy had more fun retrieving rogue ornaments than he did hanging them.

Tate's such a monkey see, monkey do child. As Chuck was stringing the beads on the tree Tate jumped in to "help." Eventually they got it done.

For the final touch the boys placed our angel atop the tree. No, your eyes aren't deceiving you, that is a stuffed animal, a dog to be exact, complete with angel wings and a halo. It's a long story for another day and it dates back to the same era as the cheesy satin balls.
Merry Christmas!