Olives? Pickles?

I just went on a ridiculous website to find out if (according to the old wives' tales) I am having a boy or a girl. Some of the questions I can't answer yet because I'm not far enough along. However, according to the all-knowing internet, there is a 67% chance that it is a girl. Hmmmmmmm...... I think I just need to get an ultrasound.

Um, okay. If you say so.

I was changing Joseph's diaper earlier (a task that is made even worse than one might imagine by the simple fact that he absolutely HATES it), and during the horrible torture, he grabbed his snappi. A snappi is a thing we use to hold his diapers together instead of pins (see the picture). Now I know that they are not toys because I can read. It says so right on the package. But I'm not kidding you when I say that he hates diaper changes, so I pick my battles. In the past he has done cute things with it, like hold it up to the front of his diaper, showing me that he knows what it is used for. This time, though, he held it up to his chest and said, "baaahhh." For those of you who have been reading, you know what that means, but for those just tuning in, it means "bra." Well, Joseph, I guess so. I guess it could look like a bra for a little guy, er girl. Whatever.

Movie time

Tony and I have recently started Netflix, and I have to say that I love it!!!!! I'm not only addicted to the movies, but I am also addicted to the website. I can't stop rating movies I've seen and looking for ones I haven't. We already have 23 movies in our queue, and we only started last week. I only hope that my new-found addiction won't stop me from writing every so often. If I slip up and I haven't written in a while, send me an e-mail to kick me in the pants. In the meantime if anyone has any movie recommendations send them my way. I have a feeling I won't be getting to the theater that often in the next couple of years, so this may be it for me.

Oh yeah, If you have Netflix, let me know. Maybe we can be "friends." So far I only have one Neflix friend (Hi Tam), and she's a good one. I won't disclose how many movies she has rated, but let me tell you, it's a lot more than I have! Next up: Me and You and Everyone We Know. Don't spoil it for me.

Saying goodbye to an old friend

I officially grew out of my smallest pair of jeans. I’m going to miss them so much! We only met such a short time ago (in October)-- and how quickly they became my favorite. Hopefully we will meet again someday. Farewell, friend.

Organic brownies anyone????

Sure, if I could buy some organic produce around here, I would. But I’m not even talking about existing on that level. What’s a girl (or little boy) to eat when trying to avoid just a few bad things:

corn syrup
hydrogenated oils
MSG
nitrates
things that are not made from whole wheat (or other whole grains)

What’s left? I’m starving. Is it really that hard? Is it really too much to ask? What is going on at our supermarkets?

And his vocabulary grows and grows

I don’t remember teaching Joseph the word for it exactly. I do however remember saying on occasion something like, “Oh, thank you, Joseph. Can I have that? That’s Mommy’s bra. Boys don’t need to wear bras; they are only for girls. That’s why Daddy doesn’t have one…” and on and on. This happens when Joseph is digging through the pile of clothes on the bedroom floor (sometimes dirty, sometimes clean, sometimes somewhere in the middle), and he triumphantly pulls out one of my bras like it is an exciting rare find.

But today was different. He was sifting through the pile, and I could hear him saying, “baaaahhhh.” Now, I know that doesn’t sound like much, but I recognized it as some kind of word. I thought for a second, “Does he have my bra?” But I knew that he couldn’t know the word “bra”. “Baaaahhhh, ” I heard again. I assumed that I would look over and see that he had found one of his balls that had gotten away from the rest of his toys. “Ball” kind of sounds like “baaaahhhh” sometimes, since he is currently leaving off the emphasized “L” sound at the end that I loved so much (it was so emphasized for a while that he would leave his tongue hanging out of his mouth long after finishing the word).

But as I looked over, sure enough, he had my bra. Even though this isn’t the first time this kind of thing has happened, I am always amazed when he learns something or understands something that I would never have given him credit for. There he was, dangling my bra out in front of him, trying to hand it to me. Then the strangest thing happened. I took it from him, took my pajamas off, and started to put on my bra. He looked up at me with a half smile, like maybe he was about to make a joke and started to do the sign for “milk.” This is the sign he used when he wanted to nurse, which is unusual because he has been completely weaned for over a month now. I didn’t think he’d remember. I guess seeing what he saw brought back memories.

The mobile

The other day when Joseph was working on his obligatory daily task of ripping apart the house, he once again came across his old mobile. He used to love his mobile with the cute ocean creatures. His favorite was the octopus. Long before he could communicate other than screaming (well, not that he doesn’t STILL do that), he would watch and anticipate when the purple octopus was about to make its way into his line of vision. I swear that before that kid knew how to breastfeed correctly he knew that the octopus came after the turtle. But now, it no longer resembles a mobile as he has taken the entire thing apart. But that doesn’t mean that it’s no longer fun. He likes to prove that an object really is more than just the sum of its parts. The little animals don’t hang from anything. They just sit on the ground attached to a piece of cloth with little strings. Joseph doesn’t care, though. He still thinks it’s fun. He likes to point to the animals and ask me what they are.

“Dis?” He says.
“Turtle.” I answer.
“Dis?”
“Octopus.”
“Dis?”
“Fish.”
“Dis?”
“Seahorse.”
“Dis?”
“Turtle.”
“Dis?”
“Octopus.”
“Dis?”
“Fish.” …

It’s a fun game.

Or he might enjoy taking the plastic piece that is meant to suspend the mobile over the crib and push it around the house like a metal detector.

That’s a fun game, too.

But the other day he was interested in the little piece that actually plays the music. He brought it over and handed it to me, so I turned it on. I actually hadn’t heard it in such a long time. It’s not original or anything. It only plays Brahms’ Lullaby. But the little clanking sounds of the mobile are such a sharp contrast to the bleeps, blops, and flashing what-nots of his current toys. All of a sudden I had such a flood of memories. Mostly memories of a little tiny newborn lying in his crib, so tiny that the crib seemed to swallow him up like a huge swimming pool of blue sheets. And for the first time I really grasped what we are getting into again. For the first time this felt real.