18(ish) Months

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Dear Tate,

Last week you turned 18 months old and we celebrated by injecting you with some chemicals so you don’t get sick. Yay, Science! Tate, I’m totally kidding. Not about the shots, you did have to get them, but my inference that they are not important. Your dad and I are very pro-vaccine and pro-western medicine, so I can only assume you’ll end up being a yogi aromatherapist who smells faintly of patchouli. I promise to love you anyway.

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That’s what being a mom is all about, Tate. Loving you even when you do something silly. Like, for instance, pooping in the bathtub. Or clawing at me when you’re angry, leaving crazy scratches all over my body like some little were-baby. Or throwing grapes at my head because you saw your dad do it once (I totally caught that one in my mouth because I rule) and now you think it’s the game we play at dinnertime. While this is a fun game, maybe you could wait for me to sweep up the floor before you start grabbing grapes from the previous meal off the kitchen tile. Or at least wait until your dad leaves the room so I don’t get in trouble for letting you. We need to work as a team, Tate!

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At your 18 month checkup, your doctor warned me that fun times were ahead. Soon you’ll be speaking in full sentences and writing equations in Mandarin! Or not. But you will be talking so much more and you’ve already started interacting in ways that were unfathomable only a few months ago. Your vocabulary expands daily, along with your love of your own voice, which is a lethal combination for my ears. Add in your love for anything that crashes, and you’re a screaming, stomping, KA-POWing machine.

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Tater, you’re my little Bam Bam. You’re sweet and snuggly and love to play “nite-nite” as long as the game ends with you jumping on the bed. You have known how to say “mama” for months, but you never really said it unless you wanted something. All people you love (me, Lu, Grammy) are “dada.” Your dad, ironically, is not, as his name is “DADDEEEEEEEEE,” a word that can be heard from down the street whenever you spot his face. But this weekend I started clapping like a lunatic seal whenever you’d say “mama,” so that’s now your new parlor trick. “MAMAAAA!” you’ll yell, while clapping wildly for yourself.

Good job, little dude. I’m over here applauding like crazy.

Love,
Mama

Baby, You Can Drive My Car

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The celebration of Lulu continues with the newest dance recital video. Beware, adorable craziness ahead!

Caps! Caps for Sale! 50 Cents a Cap!

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Tate loves to read. He loves reading books more than eating, which is saying something, since that little guy will put down an entire pizza in one sitting if you let him. I’ve felt a bit guilty about the lack of reading time that Tate gets with me, especially in comparison to how much we read to Lulu when she was younger. But as everything is with two kids, it’s harder to find the time. So I was pleasantly surprised when Tate toddled up to me carrying a pile of books, handed them over and promptly sat down in my lap, ready to get to it.

Tate has a whole stack of books that he loves (top Tater Tot picks are Corduroy, Brown Bear, Brown Bear and Moo, Baa, La La La), but his favorite by far is Caps for Sale. This is endlessly entertaining for me, because it was one of my favorite books as a kid as well, and I fondly remember my parents reading it to me over and over, while I acted out the part of the monkeys who steal the poor peddlers caps. If you’ve never heard of it, the book premise is basically that a peddler who is selling caps falls asleep and wakes to find all of his caps have been stolen by a tree full of monkeys. He then yells at the monkeys and the monkey taunt him back by repeating everything he does.

The other day we realized that like myself and Lulu before him, Tate loved Caps for Sale, and loved acting out the parts where the monkeys make fun of the peddler. So when Trent heard us reading it before bed, he grabbed my iPhone and shot the video below. It makes me very happy.

Turns out, even though we didn’t read to him for 30 minutes each and every night, our little guy loves books just as much as his sister. That’s pretty rad.

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And just for fun, here’s an old video of Lucy reading the same book when she was about two years old (the Caps for Sale part is at 2:28). Yeah, I’m crying now. Mah baby!!!

Happy Mother’s Day!

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May your day be filled with sloppy kisses, tumbles and soccer balls to the face.

Spoiled

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I’ve been a Macintosh lover and user for years. I guess it all started in high school, when the only Mac computers in the school resided in the journalism classroom, where the epic “Mentor” newspaper and “Blue M” yearbook were created. While most kids took a while to get used to the glory of the Macintosh (Where is the CTRL key?! How do you right click? What the ‘eff does CMMD mean?!), I quickly took to those silly looking computers with the time clock wait icon. When I decided to become a journalism major in college, I was pleased to find the whole school used Apple exclusively, and when I got my job as a video editor with the school, which lasted throughout my college career, I knew I would need an Apple of my very own.

Enter my beloved “Macaroni,” a G4 Powerbook which has stood by me for many, many years. It’s been through five major moves in four cities (including Florence, Italy), and countless You Tube videos. Though it doesn’t hold battery charge now and is basically obsolete, I still love my Macaroni, and refuse to give it up. That is, until it can be properly replaced (suggestion: here).

And my Mac love doesn’t just extend to computers. I have been the owner of way too many iPods, including my first, a pink iPod Mini given to me by Trent as a Christmas gift oh so many years ago. That was followed a few years later with a Video iPod, and a hand me down iPod Touch. But now, ladies and gents, now I have entered a whole new world of Mac dependency.

I have an iPhone. And not just a 3G, but because of some crazy billing error, the new 3Gs. Please, let’s have a moment of silence.

This phone is the best electronic tool I’ve ever laid my fingers on. I use the Google Maps GPS feature instead of printing out directions, I downloaded a sound machine app to help me sleep when I can’t settle down, I check Twitter way more often then is necessary, I can listen to Pandora or any NPR station in the county with just a touch. And having my music, videos, photos and phone all in one device isn’t bad either.

But the best part, for me, at least, is the new video feature, so when Lucy gets all cute at a Royals game, leading our section as team cheerleader, I can capture it and share with you.

Or when Mara is trying to avoid me, I can easily annoy her.

Or when I need to entertain my kid with random questions, I can capture her insane reaction.

But I’m certainly not wasting time taking videos. I spend most of my iPhone time checking my work email and calendars. And the stock market. And the weather.

Yup, it’s all about the work. Practicality, people. Uh huh. Totally.

[cough, cough]

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