Sunday~October 4, 2009
All this time, you've been hearing about Asher's noggin. Ever since we found out about that whole hydrocephalus thing it's as if his only appearance here on the blog is all about water on the brain and shunts and all that.
Poor guy. There's more to him than hydrocephalus, of course.
He's doing so well. SO well. I mean, like, I-will-scream-at-you-every-time-you-tell-me-I-can't-have-what-I-want-to-have kind of well, know what I mean? And if he doesn't agree with his brother...uh huh, that deserves a punch or a scratch or a bite.
He's got The Feisty, that Asher. He's got it.
(I should seriously post video of it, he's terrifying.)
And it is SO hard to be mad at him.
No, not because of his noggin, but because he's Asher.
He will completely fold his face into a frown and hunch his shoulders and then screeeeech his demands like some kind of crazed vulture. And that's funny. So it's hard to be mad.
Oh, and then when he's calm and collected, he talks like ET, endearing himself to us even more.
"Eaaat. Eeeaaaat." (pointing his ET finger toward the fridge.)
(Everyone scrambles to get him some food.)
Just today I went to get him (because he was screeching at the top of his lungs) after his nap and I was all, "Oh my...it stinks in here...Did you poop?"
I was hoping for an answer of any kind, since he's new to talking and all, and he gave me this ET response...
"Nooooope." (emphasis on the 'p'-pah!)
I said, "Oh. Can I smell your diaper to check?"
"MmmmHmmm," he says nonchalantly, like he truly believes there's nothing to hide.
So I stick my face in the vacinity of his bum and take a whiff like all parents do and I almost pass out.
"Oh," I say. "No poop, huh? Well, what's in there then, my child?"
(Laughing) "Oh really, DIRT is stinking up your diaper."
"In your diaper?"
"Oh OK...So let me get this straight...you have dirt and gum in your diaper?"
"Oh really. What else?"
To which I said, "MmmmHmmmm..." (and then rolled my eyes and took him to change his diaper.)
In other Mommy Blog news....
The other day I told Miles to go put his pants on.
He asked why (OF COURSE).
I said, "Well, we're having company over and when you have company over you wear pants."
He went to his room, was putting on pants and started laughing. Then he called out,
"We're having a business over, Mom? I'm putting on my pants for a business?"
Get it? Huh? Do ya get it?
Smarty pants, kid.