The best part of my day is Banner. Especially when he is being his usual irrational toddler self. Seriously. He is hysterical...

There are so many things I meant to blog about in September that I simply never got around to.  So without further ado, yet another list of disjointed Banner memories:

The little dude keeps growing and changing everyday.  It simply blows my mind how fast his vocabulary is developing.  He knows the numbers 8, 5 and 3.  Granted, I'm not sure he knows what 8, 5 and 3 MEAN, but he can say them.  He also know his name ("Nanner" or "Nana"), calls his bellybutton his "but but" and refuses to wear shoes despite his obsession with them.  It is rare that a day passes where he hasn't learned a new word or phrase.  Half the time, we don't even know where he picked them up.  Like "stuck", "walk" and "towel" for example.  He just started saying them one day out of nowhere. He also says "Ya" (yes) like he is from Sweden, and narrates what is going on when he walks in on you in the bathroom:

"Mama sit potty!"

"Yes.  Mama is sitting on the potty."

"Poo-poo potty?"

"Yes, mama is going poo-poo in potty.  Why don't you go find daddy?"

"Ya!  Mama! Poo-poo!  Potty!"

"Yes, mama goes poo-poo in potty.  TREV-VOR?  CAN YOU COME GET YOUR SON?"

[Flush]

"Buh-bye, poo-poo!  Buh-bye!"

Part of me is thrilled that he is showing an interest in the whole potty thing, and the other part really craves some privacy in the bathroom.  And it isn't just me.  Since the child has never met a door he can't open, he has started walking in on guests using the bathroom, too.  Believe me, it is weird enough to have your own kid narrate what you are doing in the bathroom.  It is something else entirely when your kid walks in on someone else...and you have to go in and get him.

(Sorry, Adam.)

To be fair, Adam was using the Jack and Jill bath that connects to Banner's nursery to the guest room.  It isn't like we regularly lose track of him in public restrooms.

Plus, it isn't like all this potty talk is getting us any closer to being potty trained.  If you put the kid on the potty, he screams like a banshee.  The only plus side is that he will occasionally tell you that he has pooped his pants.  Of course, he also loathes having his diaper changed, so he will just as quickly lie to you when anyone in a twenty foot radius can clearly smell what is really going on.

Which leads me into a segment I like to call:  Toddlers are sometimes completely irrational a$$hats.  I might just start a whole new series of blog labels.

Mess.

• Banner is completely obsessed with shoes.  He will throw fits over the fact that he isn't wearing shoes AFTER HE JUST TOOK THEM OFF AND TOSSED THEM ACROSS THE ROOM/CAR.  Same goes for socks.  Sometimes we can go days without socks, and sometimes his lack of socks is a matter of life and death.

• And don't even get me started on how he freaks out if he discovers someone else not wearing shoes.  He will find you a pair and bring them to you.  He has an uncanny ability to memorize the type of shoe he last saw you in and not rest they are back on your feet.  The only good thing about this is that it has (mostly) cured Trevor and I of our habit of leaving our shoes around the house (instead of properly putting them away in the closet). 

• He also is very opinionated about what shoes he wants to wear when.  Even if they are not seasonably appropriate, don't fit or are - heaven forbid - broken.  His favorite pair of shoes broke on Monday at the Arboretum, and I almost cried.  Not because I was being sentimental, but because he continues to want to wear them.  But he FREAKS OUT when he puts them on and rediscovers the fact that the sole is pulling away from the sandal. "Uh oh, shoe!  UH OH!  Shoe!  Shoe!  Shoe!  NOOOooooo!"

Sad day.

• He LOVES to strip but then freaks out because he is naked.  But doesn't want you to catch him to reapply his diaper/clothes.  100 extra points it all this happens in the front yard in the vicinity of neighbors.

• He thinks taking off his diaper is awesome...until "nature calls" and he has an accident.  Because there are no winners in a world without diapers for the not potty trained.  Especially when he takes his sleep sack, footed onesie AND diaper off after we've put him to bed for the night and closed the door.  Because, OMG, WHY?

Yeah, I'm not wearing clothes.
What are you gunna do about it?

• He thinks shooting snot rockets at his mother is hysterical.  SERIOUSLY, WHO TAUGHT HIM THIS BECAUSE I WANT TO TELL YOU HOW MUCH I HATE YOU IN PERSON!

• He will demand a cracker, water, squeezie or [fill in blank] and then break down, sob and toss the very thing he just requested away because...???!!!

• Elmo.  Did you know he raps the alphabet on You Tube?  Yeah.  Nuff said.

• Banner wants to double dip his cracker in the hummus, guacamole, etc. and cries if you hand him a fresh cracker with more hummus, guac, etc. on it.  Because, obviously, the soggy, gross cracker is just fine, thankyouverymuch.

• You know what is a bad idea?  A toddler with a baseball bat.  You know what is worse?  Trying to get a baseball bat AWAY from a toddler with a baseball bat.

• I was so happy when I had a boy because I was always kind of a tomboy growing up and completely missed the whole princess thing.  So imagine my distress when the only program Banner shows a remote interest in watching on TV (other than Elmo rapping the alphabet on You Tube) is some animated travesty called SOFIA THE FIRST on the Disney channel.  Because Sofia is a princess in training.  She participates in competitions/"schooling" with other princesses on how to properly fan herself and twirl, and periodically doubts herself because she wasn't born a princess like the other girls.  I also think she is supposed to be Hispanic, but...well, don't get me started.  Banner is doing this on purpose to annoy me, I just know it.  And Trevor insists that 21 months is too early to start talking to the boy about feminism and the social construction of gender roles.

• What is Banner's is his, and what's yours is his, too.  This is especially true for any and all desirable foods.  Anything deemed not desirable (i.e. most veggies not mixed in with something else) end up on my plate.

• Hot.  Because Banner knows what "hot" means, but - obviously - doesn't think I do.  And then he touches something hot and looks at me all shocked like, "OMG, woman!  That's HOT."  And I'm all, "Yeah, that's why I said 'Careful.  Hot'".

• Speaking of "hot", we had to install a latch at the top of our hot water heater closet because "someone" kept sneaking in there and turning the knob to "vacation". 

• I'm pretty sure Banner falls asleep in his car seat a block from home on purpose.

• "Mo".  I mean, I'm glad he can ask for "more" and I love it that he usually follows it up with "peas" (please), but OMG.  Sometimes there is just no "mo".  Saying mo 9,000 times from the backseat isn't going to change that.

• Ice.  But ice melts and then there is no more ice.  This is a royal effing crisis when you are (almost) 21 months.  Because, "Ice!  ICE!  ICE!  NOOOOOOoooooo!  Ice!  No wa-wa!  ICE!"

• Banner let's you know if you are listening to something on the radio that he doesn't like.  He HATES talk, but is very opinionated about what music he wants to listen to when.  He can't say "music" yet so instead just yells "No!  No!  No!" over and over again until you change the station.  I generally give in because I find being screamed at in traffic extremely stressful.  Luckily, Trevor discovered that the kid loves classical and air conducts from the comfort of his throne chair.  Awesome.

I drew him a happy face and he scribbled it out.
Tell me that's not personal.

• Ever try to explain to a toddler why he can't take a book to swim class?  Yeah.  MY LIFE.

• Timeout.  Because it obviously isn't working properly if your kid does something on purpose, looks you square in the eye and then puts himself in timeout with copious amounts of "yeah I just did THAT" attitude.

• DON'T CLEAN UP AFTER BANNER OR PUT ANYTHING IN HIS HAMPER!  Seriously.  I tried this morning, and he freaked out.  He wants to do it himself.  Which I'm all for regardless of the fact that it takes twice as long, and that I randomly have to sort blocks, shoes and toys out of the dirty clothes before starting a load of laundry.

• The car seat.  He wants to CLIMB into it on his own.  Which, again:  fabulous, but not time effective.  Same with his need to buckle all things that buckle.

And, well, this post is too long but I don't know how to end it.  So, I leave you with this final tidbit:

THE CRIB.  Last week, Trevor put Banner to bed and walked out to make dinner (I was at an exhibit preview).  Banner started to cry because he has recently decided that he wants his parents to sit in the room while he falls asleep.  Except if we stay in there the last thing he does is sleep.  If fact, the quickest way to get him to fall asleep (generally) is to leave.  Most nights he cries for two minutes and passes out on his own.  We won't talk about those other nights.

Anyway, back to last Wednesday.  Trevor walks to the kitchen to make dinner and Banner starts to cry:

"Waaaaa!  Waaaaa!  Waaaaa!"

[Thump]

""Waaaaa!  Waaaaa!  Waaaaa!"

The thump?  Yeah, that was Banner throwing himself out of his crib.  Trevor discovered him five seconds later crying in the hallway outside his nursery.

The good news, Banner wasn't hurt by the fall, but it scared him enough that he hasn't tried to climb out again since.

The bad news, our time in the crib is probably limited, which sort of makes me want to drink.  Heavily.

Happy Friday, everyone!!

Where I've been and what I've been doing...sort of

Y'all.  I am so tired.

I don't know what it is, really.  Granted, this time of the year is always hectic at work.  But I just feel like I'm running on fumes.  And it probably doesn't help that I spent the second half of September and the first part of October under the weather.  First with a sore throat and fever that resolved itself after three days of R&R, and then another sore throat a week later that just got worse and worse over the course of seven days until I discovered that I couldn't swallow (as in,  AT ALL).  So, I'm on the good drugs now to treat what the doctor described yesterday as "a very nastily infected throat and tonsils".  I'd go into more detail but every single word my Internist used to describe what he was seeing was exceptionally disgusting, so I'll spare you.  Sufficed to say, this has been the worst sore throat I've ever had, and I'm just glad that I'm on meds now that will allow me to swallow again soon. 

Ironically, though, the second sore throat came with no other symptoms.  No congestion.  No cough.  No fever.  I'm not even hoarse.  And, honestly, I don't even feel that bad...with the exception of the super painful throat, of course.  My doctor says it is possible that I have strep, but since he doesn't believe in strep tests, we'll never know for sure.  Whatever caused the infection, however, wasn't going away on its own.  So I guess it doesn't really matter at this point as long as I can swallow again, and Banner and Trevor don't get it.

(Also, I'm just glad I can still drink on this antibiotic, because Hil and Phil are making their annual pilgrimage to Dallas this weekend and we are going out for margaritas on Friday when their plane gets into Love Field.  Sometimes it is the little (frozen) things (with salt and a swirl of sangria) in life.  Especially after a looooooong week during fair time.)

Banner has been sick on and off, too.  It is like we can't catch a break...or enough sleep.  Oh, and it probably isn't helping anything that the museum was recently discovered to have a pretty major mold problem.  Which is fabulous considering I once had an allergist recommend I move to a more arid environment.  So, maybe the whole throat thing is some sort of bizarre allergic reaction?  It did feel like my throat was starting to close in on me.  But I'm probably just trying to make myself feel better because I so desperately want to be not contagious for Banner and Trevor's sake.  Strep is just a bad, bad five letter word when you have a kiddo, I swear.

Anyhoo, here are two absolutely random and for no reason tidbits that I always meant to blog about in detail, but never got around to mentioning.  And there is really no reason to mention them now, except I feel a compulsive need to for absolutely no reason whatsoever.  I apologize in advance because neither are exceptionally noteworthy.  Much like my blog in general.

1. Apparently, I have a thing for British movies.  Especially flicks about seniors retiring.  I've recently subjected Trevor to Quartet (on my birthday), The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel (possibly my new favorite movie) and Gosford Park. I am pretty sure Trev secretly enjoys them too even if nothing gets blown up and no one gets bitten by a zombie.  I really want to see A Room with a View, but I have a feeling that October - with all its Halloween-inspired movies and TV show premieres - will delay this indefinitely.  Still, I'm feeling very blessed.  After all, I got to choose THREE movies in the last TWO MONTHS.  Before Quartet, I hadn't gotten to pick a movie since Mother's Day 2012.  Most days, I'm surprised I know how to turn on the TV.


2. The last couple of months have also been very trying as Trevor and I have grappled with whether or not we should move.  We would like to have another baby, God willing, someday, but don't live in the best of school districts.  But it isn't just that.  I don't really want to move to another house in this city.  I want to move to another state.  This isn't an immediate issue, but one that nags at us pretty often because we never intended to live in Dallas long term.  Granted, we both have family here, we were raised here.  Heck, we have jobs and a house here.  But...it is still Dallas.  We never intended to raise our children here.  I spent 10 years trying to escape from this city, and now my "temporary" move back has turned into nine years.  Not that I would change a thing, mind you.  Some pretty fabulous things have happened to me in this city.  Still, our lives are so much harder to pick up and move now than they were a decade ago (when my entire life conveniently fit into the back of my Montero). 

And just because I feel like I should end of a different note, Gypsy woke me up this morning by running over to my side of the bed and burping in my face.  It might have been more effective than coffee.  So, yeah.  There is that. 

Consider yourselves caught up on my life.  ;P

And there you have it...

He was supposed to be a secret...

...until the wind blew his sheet away 24 hours early.

Howdy, Folks!

Like the legend of the phoenix, Big Tex has risen from the ashes...

...with a booty

He will be officially unshrouded unveiled tomorrow afternoon. 

Because it has been a weird day, and watching this video makes me smile...

Picture Day...

The best thing about picture day?  This note that went home the day before:

If banner will be here tomorrow for breakfast, please do not put on
his picture day clothes!  Its yogurt day tomorrow!  Thanks.

Because MY child usually looks like this after meals:

Do you see the hummus in his hair?  Because...yeah.  He's a mess.

As are our walls?  The kid leaves his mark:

Thank goodness for the Magic Eraser.

But I digress. 

The decision to cut Banner's hair was made AFTER picture day.  At the time, I was all "Oh my babaaaaay!" about his curls, and now I'm like, "OMG, my kid looked like a redneck" in his very first school pictures.

Yeah.

A least the images are memorable.  

Favorite.

Not that I find them unadorable or anything.  I love my little trike-riding mullet baby.

And, yes.  I just used unadorable in a sentence.  It is like a total legit word now.  Just like selfie, derp and FOMO.

In fact, the only way Banner could have possibly been any cuter is if he had been covered in yogurt.  Duh.

I'm also fascinated by the fall backdrop and fake leaves, because I spent TWO DAYS stressing over what color background to use.  You had to preselect it on the form when giving permission to let the photographers photograph your child.  The choices ranged from blue to purple to white.  I finally chose gray because I thought blue eyes + blue shirt + blue background was overkill.  And then the proofs came back and were all autumn leaves and clouds floating in the sky.  Not a single gray background in the lot.

I am assuming this is a message from the universe to me to stop over thinking things that don't really matter.  

(Obviously, the universe has never met me.  I spent twenty minutes this morning rewording a single sentence in an email to a coworker about coffee.)

Plus, it isn't like I didn't buy them all.  Because (again) MY BABAAAAAAY! I can't even delete the bad or blurry pictures of him on my iPhone.  True story.

A picture is worth a thousand words...or stories.

One reason I scan in many of Banner's art projects is because it reminds me of what he was learning at school that week.  Yeah, some of them aren't all that impressive are best described as scribbles, but that isn't the point.  Each "masterpiece" represents a new word or experience in the life of my son.  

Take "yellow" for example.  That was the week he started saying "el-o".

And I can't BEGIN to tell you the leaps and bounds made in Banner's vocabulary since they started learning the alphabet.  It has been incredible.

During A week, he learned the word "apple".  Except when he says it, it is more like "ap-pool".  He took an armadillo and an alligator for show-and-tell that week.  Thank goodness Amy and William gave Banner all their beanie babies back when I was pregnant.  Without them, there would be much more scrambling on my end to come up with something letter appropriate for him to take to school each week.

The letter B was when he rediscovered a stuffed bear that his Gran had given him back around the time he was born.  He now insists on sleeping with him every night and has named him "RWAR". 

The letter C brought us our first documented example of Banner's ability to recognize letters unprompted.  I drive a GMC, and during C week, Banner marched right out into the garage, pointed at the C in G-M-C, and proudly declared "Ceeeeee".

Obviously, the kid is brilliant and destined for Harvard.

C is for CIRCLES

And CATS

D week, he became re-obsessed with his dogs, and started carrying around his stuffed puppy that a friend of mine from high school sent me when he was born.  "Pup-eee" also sleeps in the crib with Wubby and RWAR.  It is getting crowded in there.

E was all about elephants and ELMO.  He actually tried to steal an Elmo toy from school at the end of the week.  And I use the word "steal" loosely, because he saw me, ran over to the table, picked up the Elmo and his water, walked to the door and said, "buh-bye".  He was not happy at all when he learned that Elmo had to stay behind.  

Leaving school that day was an exercise in futility.  We would get halfway down the hall before he'd turned around abruptly and start sobbing "Elmo" over and over again.  He even tried running back to his classroom.  I felt particularly bad for one of the infant room teachers who commented on Banner's Demarcus Ware jersey on our way out.  She thought she had said something to upset Banner, but he had just remembered for the 100th time that we were leaving Elmo behind and was devastated.  I ended up having to pick Banner up and carry him to the car.  We were hysterical about Elmo on and off for the rest of the evening.  I'm pretty sure the definition of pathetic is listening to your toddler cry themselves to sleep in their crib over their lack of Elmo.  It was like he lost his best friend.

Two days later, after hearing about nothing but Elmo ALL weekend, Trevor decided he couldn't take it anymore, and surprised Banner with his very first Elmo and Grover.  So, for now, all is right and well with the world.  Apparently, I was unaware that this is the age when kids start obsessing over Elmo.  He has never seen Sesame Street, though, so I thought he was immune.  Boy, was I wrong.  Elmo is like a disease that toddlers catch when you are least expecting it.

Although, it is cute to watch Banner proudly introduce his Elmo and Grover to everyone who comes over.  He is so proud.

This week is F week.  Banner is learning about fish, fruit, frogs AND FOOTBALL.  Trevor is thrilled.  Lord help the rest of us.

As a side note, I find it rather humorous that Banner knows what noise a fish makes but has no idea what a donkey, elephant or fox says.  

20 letters to go.  Assuming Banner doesn't get moved up to the two's early, we should finish right around his second birthday.

Because I woke Trevor up to see it JUST to make sure I wasn't dreaming...

THIS might be my favorite local news story in years. 

Watch the video.  You won't be disappointed.