My Little Picasso's

My Little Picasso's

Monday, January 30, 2012

Max is becoming a mommy to a monkey.

For Christmas, Max and Charlie got little sock monkeys from his Mimi and Papa.  They are very sweet and cuddly, can be dragged by tails, and are, I believe, their most human like animals besides actually having a dolly(let's not go there).

He can basically say monkey which is even cuter.  Now he has begun treating it like a baby.  Saying "hug" and picking it up to hug like he asks Michael or I for hugs.  He wants a diaper on the monkey, a t-shirt.  The funniest part is when he goes through a routine with this monkey like I do with Charlie.

He tries to cut the monkey's toenails, which do not exist but are stumps of yarn.
He puts vicks vaporub on his chest, which the dog then wants to lick off.
Aquafor ... wherever.
Combs its head, again, yarn.
Wipes its supposed boy/girl parts.
Takes to the market.
Puts in his bed, tucks it in, turns on the turtle night light, the heart beat bear, turns off the lights, shuts the door, says the "shhhh" sound and proclaims very loudly, "NAP."

Now I only saw him try to nurse a baby doll at church, I wonder if he has tried to nurse his monkey in bed at night.

Does Max have a nurturing side to him!  I believe so!  Many children will supposedly go through this, particularly if they have a little brother or sister that they observe being taken care of.  I know Max is trying to be just like me.  I'm touched ... but let's not try to nurse the monkey, Max.

January 30th, 2012

Monday, January 23, 2012

Rashes ...

It all started with a fussy feverish baby.  Charlie is generally quite happy and content, like Max used to be, so when he began to get really fussy, something was wrong.  Over the course of a night, day, and into another night his fever ranged from 100.2 - 102.5.  Yikes.  Holy hotness.  I got him to the doctor on the second day and he wad diagnosed with a virus.  Mom speak ... no treatment.  Argh.  However, they did do a strep test and throat culture due to some red spots on his throat.  Both were negative.  Fever came down.  Wooh.  Then yesterday morning he woke up covered in red spots that have now become blotchy.  I really hope this is not chicken pox.  Eight months and chicken pox.  Don't they know they are supposed to get it around second grade and you get to miss a week of school.  Come on, Charlie, make it work for you.  Yesterday he screamed as I have never heard him before???????  Very strange.  Guess I'll be calling the doctor again.

January 23rd, 2012

I have now discovered that what Charlie had is 'roseola' or fifth disease.  Basically a rash that can surface after having a fever that is the result of a virus.  OK(hear the sarcasm).  I was all flustered thinking the worst ... chicken pox, measles, hives ... but noooooooooooooooo, just a fever rash, basically.  No wonder he was still his happy self.

However, there was one scary part.  I was asked about my and his exposure to pregnant women.  Luckily, we have not been around my very beautiful pregnant sister in law who is pregnant with twin girls, but that did scare me a bit.  What if we were with her.  I am so excited for her and my brother in law.  This kind of stuff, 'roseola', would not be what I call common knowledge.  I would never have known to not be around pregnant women.  A little scary.

January 25th, 2012

Monday, January 16, 2012

Childproof Shmildproof

Today I found Max trying to get my razor blades out of the little plastic container they come in.  That means he went into my bathroom, opened the childproof locked doors, found the razor blades, and was trying to get them out.

The other day he got a hold of my glass cleaner and went to clean the glass top of the coffee table with it.  He made little squirting noises and acted like he was wiping it up.  Luckily the lid was turned to off.  That means everything under the kitchen sink is in jeopardy.
He also found the dog biscuits.  He tried one.  Then spit it out in my hand.  Annie likes him a lot though.  I see her weight sky rocketing.

He takes out the plug covers and plugs in anything he can get his hands on with a plug.  His newest favorite is unplugging our alarm clock, dragging it around the house like a puppy on a leash, and then plugging it in where he has taken off a cover that has now mysteriously disappeared.

I found my extra hairbands in the toilet.

He climbs on the lower shelves to get to what is on the higher shelves.

He tried to scale the dishwasher the other day - a closed dishwasher.

From what I can work out, he has taken to chucking something hard and with some weight, such as a book, at the door guard on the inside of his room.  Then, it falls off from force of the hit, or falls slightly apart and he pulls the rest off.  I have found him in the upstairs loft area five times now.

He locks doors.

I can't think of anymore.  I am sure there will be more stories.  There always are.

January 16th, 2012

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Superbaby ...

No sleep required.  That is Charlie's super power.

For some reason he finds 4:29am to be a great time to get up for the day.  And he wants fed.  He acts annoyed and irritable and thrashes about and bangs his head on my shoulder until I nurse him and then he so cutely ... falls asleep for about half an hour.  Really.

I am wide awake at this point.

Then ... he will not nap until after lunch.  How does he do it?  I am lucky if he naps over an hour.

And ... he has found his voice among all this.


very sweet, but not at 4:43am.

All I want to do is drink more coffee.  Bu then my mum asked if that could be keeping him awake, so I am trying to cut back.  I feel as though I feed him so much.  He is not cold when he wakes up.  Wet diapers don't seem to bug him.  What is it?  I know, he wants to see my beautiful face.

One day, I'll be dragging him out of bed ... I know.

January 10th, 2012

Monday, January 9, 2012

Toddler Antics ... part trois

Max has decided to tell me when Annie, our Boston terrier, poops.  Even if she pees, he says she poops.  Every diaper he sees me change ... "poooooooooooop."  However he isn't done yet.  He points to the diaper and says trash.  He, I am not kidding, takes a doggy poop bag and tries to clean up our front lawn.  (Disclaimer:  I do clean up before he can.)  Then he puts the bag in the bucket where I collect them.

What a good little helper!

Max tells me when Charlie needs a nap, points to the crib, puts on the music, the heart beat bear, the light up turtle, pulls the door shut, and finally, puts his finger to his lips and says "shhhhhhhhhhhhh."

He now points to the TV and says "Mel-mo" at any time of the day.  Can't you people over at PBS help us parents out and give us tips on how to explain that Elmo is not on Saturday or Sunday?

When we get to church, he points and says "turch."

He insists that his lawn mower be parked by the stroller in our garage.

Things have to be in their place with Max - if I try to use the humidifier in Charlie's room, he points that it must go on the top shelf of his closet.  We have had to resort to James Bond type stealth when moving the humidifier into Charlie's rooms when Max is not looking.

If you do not have a coaster, he will give you one.

In the bathroom he hands me toilet paper.  I'll just leave it at that and let you use your imagination in figuring out what else he does in there.

Max plays with baby dolls and the kitchen at church.  The other day he pushed the baby doll around in a stroller and then he took the baby doll out of the carriage, sat down, lifted his shirt, and tried to nurse the baby doll.  WHAT A COPYCAT.

"Max did you poop?"
"Are you sure?"

"Max, are you sleepy?"
"Max, are you tired?"
"Max, do you need a nap?"
"Are you sure?"

He knows where the toaster is in my mother-in-law's house.  And the vacuum.  He always remembers.

He likes to pick his nose and everyone else's.  He also shares his tissues.

January 9th, 2012

Monday, January 2, 2012

Mowing the sidewalk ...

Yesterday was gorgeous.  GOR-Geass.  I was very adamant about wanting to be outside for at least some time before nap time.  Max was very adamant about wanting to take his mower with him, so ... he mowed the sidewalk.  We live in a town home community, very little sidewalk.  People do not obey the 25 MPH or one-way roads.  There was me with a baby in a stroller, an unruly dog, and a toddler who did not want to stay in the road's edge to get to said sidewalk so he could mow the sidewalk.  But I am super patient mum and off we went.  He mowed the sidewalk for the small strip that was in existence.  Once we got to the end of the sidewalk, he took off in the grass.  Time to catch a toddler.  One small tantrum later, I had to convince this very toddler to mow the same sidewalk ... so he put his mower in the grass and tried to mow the grass.  This was much harder, so he put his mower back on the sidewalk and back we went.
Needless to say, Charlie was very amused with his big brother.

Mowing the sidewalk

Mowing the grass

Bored with mowing.  Pushing little brother.

Entertained little brother.

Once we got inside, it started to rain.

Happy New Year!

January 2nd, 2012