Thursday, September 30, 2004

More pretend-play

(Matthew woke this morning at 4:30 and 6:20. Urk.)

After bestowing various degrees of rejection on my proffered breakfast of cheese and granola bar (Rachel insists that granola bar is healthier than many of the other things I've given him), Matthew thought he could convince Daddy to give him ice cream for breakfast. He tried repeating himself, he tried dragging me to the freezer, ... He was very persistent but even Daddy doesn't do ice cream for breakfast. (And I never have, so I'm not sure why he thinks I'm going to start now. Baby hope springs eternal?)

Eventually (around 8:00) he gave up and asked for eggs. Okay, Daddy can help you out there. (He likes them scrambled, which is good, because it's hard to turn fried eggs over without making a mess!) He ate one and then half of another.

You are probably wondering what this has to do with the title of this post. Well, after all this and I got dressed for work I came back out to find that Matthew had helped himself to a pot and a spatula from the dishwasher. (The childproof part of the lock we have on it is broken. Teaching him not to get into it has not been effective so far, so until we get another lock I remove the knives before leaving him near it.) He was stirring his plastic farm animals around in it, saying "hot!" and "eggs!"

Wednesday, September 29, 2004


This morning Matthew slept in until 7:50. That's unheard of! I think this is the latest he's ever slept in his life. (Okay, he did wake up at 6:00, but he went back to sleep.) Little things like this make Daddy a very happy man.

Last night I got Matthew a tee-ball set at Target. Matthew is, perhaps, a little bit spoiled... Anyway, he loved whacking the ball on the post; he started off with a vertical arc and eventually I prevailed on him to try horizontally but when he does that he likes to whack the tee as hard as he can, instead of aiming for the ball. Maybe he's still a bit young for this, but hey, if it lets him burn energy inside it will be a lifesaver as it starts getting colder in the mornings. (Matthew doesn't have any problem with it, but Daddy isn't always up to the hassle of bundling and unbundling him in warm layers. Not to mention that sometimes Daddy is a wimp and would prefer to stay where it's warm himself.)

Finally, an update on a previous post: Matthew's Uncle Grant suspects that Matthew learned the "snore when you pretend to sleep" trick from him. This is apparently one of Matthew's favorite games with him: cover Uncle Grant with a blanket and watch Uncle Grant pretend to sleep, with snores.

Uncle Grant is a great peanut-sitter.

Tuesday, September 28, 2004

Baby imagination

This morning Matthew played one of his games where he pulls a blanket over himself -- usually with some help from Dad; he's not quite coordinated enough to cover his legs reliably -- and says "night night." Then he pretends to take a nap. Sometimes, like this morning, he adds snoring noises; I'm not sure where he picked that up. Rachel snores sometimes but it's been a long time since Matthew slept in the same room with us.

Matthew has also pretended to be a dog or more often cat, going on his hands and knees and making the appropriate animal sounds. He does this less frequently, though; the last time I remember was a couple weeks ago and Rachel doesn't remember anything more recent, either.

After "napping," Matthew added another game: he went and got an (adult) book, lay back down on the couch, and pretended to read it, flipping the pages Just Like Daddy. (I suppose it's probably Just Like Mommy, since he sees her reading more than he does me, but a dad's entitled to flatter himself every now and then.)

The odd thing is, he won't sit still and read a picture book with either of his parents. Occasionally he'll stand next to us while we play the Name That Picture game for a few seconds but then it's zoom back to tearing up the house.

Monday, September 27, 2004

Monkey see, monkey do

Last night we had the Casslers over. They have four boys, from 10 down to 2 1/2. Their 10 year old has been teaching himself to juggle with the Klutz book (reminds me of when I did the same thing ten years ago). He was juggling tennis balls but when I brought out my old klutz balls he preferred those. Matthew preferred those, too! Eventually we let Matthew have the klutz balls for the sake of our sanity. Matthew got all the balls, gathered them to his chest, and tossed them in the air!

Matthew took the klutz balls to bed with him that night. Looks like he's got a new favorite toy.

Sunday, September 26, 2004


Matthew is developing language skills at what his mother informs me is a normal rate. I wouldn't know. I do know that although his baby-slurred vocabulary has been increasing, sometimes very quickly, I've been wishing he'd start putting sentences together for quite a while now.

For a long time his only phrase has been "wherza," as in, "wherza ball? wherza socks? wherza dog?" etc. He picked that one up since his idea of Baby Heaven is to spend all day outside, and to go outside, he needed shoes. So naturally his demented father would go around the house trying to figure where Matthew last concealed his shoes, all the while saying, "wherza shoes?" Matthew got the hang of this in short order and eventually saw how it applied in general.

A couple days ago he came up with his second phrase. He's known what "hot" is for a while, but it's always been used more or less as a noun in its own right. The other night his mom made him some eggs for dinner and he proclaimed, "eggs hot!"

You have to be a parent to understand how irrationally proud I was.

Snack time

You know Matthew's into something he shouldn't be when it's quiet. Apparently even at not-quite-two he has some inner baby sense of when he's doing something Mommy and Daddy wouldn't approve of.

Still, sometimes you just figure, "We've babyproofed the important stuff; it's worth it for a few minutes of peace." This morning was one of those times for me. When I got up to see what he was up to, he had grabbed his tube of baby toothpaste from the counter -- if it's close enough to the edge he can grab it now, so we try to leave things there that he'd never get into, like fruit -- and was squeezing it into his mouth. And all over himself, of course.