Thursday, September 20, 2007

The tomato eater

Tonight at the market, Bear got a hold of the bag of tomatoes. Of course I did not notice this, as I was drooling over the truffles. (By the way he added a pumpkin in white chocolate, heaven.) Anyways, his wife said "oh how cute you gave him a tomato." I looked down and he had grabbed both tomatoes, bit one a couple times and threw that on the ground and was digging into the next one. I thought hey, how much can he eat in a few minutes? What will it hurt? In the next 5 minutes that I stood there making the toughest decision all day, he knawed it down to this:


A pack rat already

Right now in his grocery cart are: A picture of mommy and daddy, a pin wheel, a truck, a key card, a sippy cup, a phone and the one thing every little boy needs; a tampon. I wish I knew what criteria he went by for things allowed to go in the cart. And of course he pushes this thing everywhere saying "va va va voom!"

You think it's funny when your nose is runny, but it's snot!

Bear has had a runny nose for the past week. Combine that with sneezes and being to young to understand that the green stuff coming out of your nose is not a very slimey toy, and you get one big mess. I won't go into too much detail in this but let me just say that I had no idea that snot could stretch out that far from ones face.
I have tried to teach him how to blow his nose. I was successful in this venture for the most part. The part he does not understand is that you should (just to be polite) blow your nose into a tissue. We went down to Seattle on Sunday night and he blew his nose the ENTIRE way down. Without a kleenex. And there was nothing I could do. I could have gotten off the freeway-found a safe place to park-found my way back to the freeway every five minutes, but it would have taken us 5 hours to get there. So I let him play. And play he did. He made that snot do things I never do snot could do. Of course I have to chisel it off his face when we finally got there, but at least he was quietly entertained for the car ride down. (Now you may think me a bad mother for doing this. But I don't care. If you have kids, you understand this. If you don't have kids, go have some and then try to judge me.)
By the next morning I had finally taught him to blow into a tissue. I was putting on makeup and letting him play with the toilet paper. I looked down at one point and he had taken some t.p. and torn it into teeny tiny little microscopic pieces and was blowing his nose on each one and then setting it on the floor. He looked up at me with the proudest smile.
And I really can't complain about any of this. At least he isn't sniffing it back into his face right?