Sep 30, 2009
Sep 29, 2009
Sep 13, 2009
Week 124: Can't leave 'em alone for a minute!
I'll keep this post brief. No flowery words or long rambling explanations are needed for this one. The title of this post says it all; I can't leave Tate alone for even a minute! (Let me just say the mess on his face is the remnants of a spaghetti supper.)
Sep 6, 2009
Week 123: Pop quiz
Pop quiz
On Wed., Sept. 2nd, which of the following did Tate do:
A. Fall and scrap both knees on the concrete at daycare.
B. Push a little person (a.k.a. midget) while running from me in Wal-Mart
C. Climb the chest-of-drawers in his room causing it to topple over on top of him
D. All of the above
If you answered D you would be correct.
On that particular day Chuck picked Tate up from daycare. As Chuck got there he was greeted with an "ouchy report." The report explained what happened and required a signature from a parent.
After daycare and church that day, we piled into Wal-Mart to pick up a couple of essentials. As we were making our way to the check lanes Tate decided it was time to make his break. He started running. He made it to the front door before I caught him. I grabbed him and stopped him from exiting the store. He spun around and with a little fancy foot work flew past me and into the McDonald's inside the store. He made a little jog and found an alternate exit. But there was someone in his way. A little person was walking from the counter to his table. Tate stiff-armed this man, who in turn spun around on his heels looking for the culprit. He spotted Tate running, I immediately began apoligizing profusely, still running of course. He smiled, all was forgiven.
Eventually I caught him and gave him a good spanking.
Fastforward about an hour. We're home. Chuck has decided to good on to bed, his back is hurting and he's not been sleeping well lately.
Okay, great. Chuck toddles on off to bed leavng Tate and I sitting on the couch watching TV. In just a minute Tate looks at me and says something (I'm not sure what) then hoops off the couch and moseys off to his room. Within 30 seconds I hear this horrid commotion followed by Tate screaming. I fly off of the couch and into his room. There I find the chester drawers in his room has toppled over on top of Tate.
I pick up the chester drawers. It won't stand up on its own (something has fallen off behind it) so I prop it up on my hip and scoop Tate up. Tate, by the way, is doing this screaming cry. I am completely freaked up. About this time Chuck appears. I have him stand the chester drawers up for me as I look Tate over. Apparently he realizes he's okay as he remembers what he climbed the chester drawers for. In his hand is a Little Einstein DVD.
"I watch rocket?" he asks through tear-filled eyes.
You can watch whatever you want I tell him, thankful he's okay.
The rest of the evening was uneventful, thank God!
Sorry guys, no pictures for this post.
On Wed., Sept. 2nd, which of the following did Tate do:
A. Fall and scrap both knees on the concrete at daycare.
B. Push a little person (a.k.a. midget) while running from me in Wal-Mart
C. Climb the chest-of-drawers in his room causing it to topple over on top of him
D. All of the above
If you answered D you would be correct.
On that particular day Chuck picked Tate up from daycare. As Chuck got there he was greeted with an "ouchy report." The report explained what happened and required a signature from a parent.
After daycare and church that day, we piled into Wal-Mart to pick up a couple of essentials. As we were making our way to the check lanes Tate decided it was time to make his break. He started running. He made it to the front door before I caught him. I grabbed him and stopped him from exiting the store. He spun around and with a little fancy foot work flew past me and into the McDonald's inside the store. He made a little jog and found an alternate exit. But there was someone in his way. A little person was walking from the counter to his table. Tate stiff-armed this man, who in turn spun around on his heels looking for the culprit. He spotted Tate running, I immediately began apoligizing profusely, still running of course. He smiled, all was forgiven.
Eventually I caught him and gave him a good spanking.
Fastforward about an hour. We're home. Chuck has decided to good on to bed, his back is hurting and he's not been sleeping well lately.
Okay, great. Chuck toddles on off to bed leavng Tate and I sitting on the couch watching TV. In just a minute Tate looks at me and says something (I'm not sure what) then hoops off the couch and moseys off to his room. Within 30 seconds I hear this horrid commotion followed by Tate screaming. I fly off of the couch and into his room. There I find the chester drawers in his room has toppled over on top of Tate.
I pick up the chester drawers. It won't stand up on its own (something has fallen off behind it) so I prop it up on my hip and scoop Tate up. Tate, by the way, is doing this screaming cry. I am completely freaked up. About this time Chuck appears. I have him stand the chester drawers up for me as I look Tate over. Apparently he realizes he's okay as he remembers what he climbed the chester drawers for. In his hand is a Little Einstein DVD.
"I watch rocket?" he asks through tear-filled eyes.
You can watch whatever you want I tell him, thankful he's okay.
The rest of the evening was uneventful, thank God!
Sorry guys, no pictures for this post.
Week 122: potty Training Woes
Tate experienced another first this week and so did I. Let me set the scene for you. It's the weekend, the first weekend that we've all been home together in quite awhile. We're working REALLY hard at potty training, and Tate is doing so good. We're wearing underwear around the house and averaging about one accident a day. I am so totally stoked, because I am so completely sick of changing diapers (or pull-ups to be exact).
It's Sunday night and we're doing great. Tate's wearing under, watching Scooby and hanging with Nana and Pawpaw (who stopped in for a little while on their way to Blytheville). Next thing I know there's a puddle on and around my shoe.
I never thought I'd say this, but I had pee, yes you read right - urine, on my flipflop! Tate peed on my flip flop!
I've had a strange variety of things in my shoes since I became a mother: Tate's feet, toys, crayons, cheerios, etc. But now I can officially add pee to that list. Yuck! The worst part was those were my favorite flipflops.
To the best of my knowledge this is the first time Tate has "watered" any shoes, flipflops included.
Oh well, that's just one more embarassing story I can tell the first girl he brings home.
It's Sunday night and we're doing great. Tate's wearing under, watching Scooby and hanging with Nana and Pawpaw (who stopped in for a little while on their way to Blytheville). Next thing I know there's a puddle on and around my shoe.
I never thought I'd say this, but I had pee, yes you read right - urine, on my flipflop! Tate peed on my flip flop!
I've had a strange variety of things in my shoes since I became a mother: Tate's feet, toys, crayons, cheerios, etc. But now I can officially add pee to that list. Yuck! The worst part was those were my favorite flipflops.
To the best of my knowledge this is the first time Tate has "watered" any shoes, flipflops included.
Oh well, that's just one more embarassing story I can tell the first girl he brings home.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)