Shoop!

I got to watch Uncle Grant try to teach Matthew the correct pronunciation of "horse" this morning. (Daddy has already spent many hours on this without success, so naturally it warmed my heart to watch others fail too.)

"Shoop!" Matthew says, pointing to a painting of a stagecoach on the wall. "Shoop!"

"Horse!" Uncle Grant corrects. (As an ex-English major, Uncle Grant is a stickler for these things.)

"Shoop!" "Horse!" "Shoop!"

"Okay," I can see Uncle Grant thinking. "We've got to break this down."

"Ho!" says Uncle Grant. "Ho!" repeats Matthew. "Ho!" "Ho!"

On to the next step: "Whore!" "Whore!" This is the first time I cracked up.

"Whore-suh!" "Whore-SUH!" Matthew liked that SUH at the end.

"Horse!"

"Shoop!"

Uncle Grant threw in the towel.

Oh crap!

About five minutes before church ended one of the nursery sisters came and got me from priesthood meeting. "Your son needs a diaper. It's leaked."

Well, okay. I can handle that. I'm an experienced dad!

I got Matthew from the nursery room. I pulled back his waistband to see how bad the damage was. I couldn't see his diaper at all. Uh-oh.

Got to the men's room. No changing table. Grr. Matthew doesn't really fit on the counter anymore, but we had to make do. I took his shoes off and pants. His diaper was lodged in the bottom of his left pants leg, with poo crusted all down the leg -- some on his butt, but most on his leg. The sock was indescribably gross; I just threw it out.

I tried wiping with baby wipes but it was far too crusty; I baredly made a difference at all. I put a new diaper on him so he wouldn't pee on me, put his pants back on (it would keep him from getting it on the car, anyway) and declared an emergency. David and Frank and I left right away; 15 minutes later Matthew was in the bathtub, soaking it off.

All in all I have to say not as gross as barf all over but parenting is not a job for the squeamish, that's for sure. :)

Hey! My sleeper!

Getting Matthew ready for bed tested his patience tonight. First I stripped him, then I dressed him in a new sleeper from wal-mart, then we decided that the sleeper was too small and needed to be returned, so I took THAT off him and started dressing him in another set of pyjamas. "Hey! My sweeper [sleeper]!" he protested.

That's the longest set of words he's strung together yet, that's not just mimicing.

(Also he's saying things like "lights! off!" and "dada! hat!" -- associating the words, but not really making them flow, if that makes sense. This was a lot smoother.)

A future in Medicine?

I took Matthew with me to the midwife for my checkup. He watched as the nurse took my blood pressure and was exceptionally good during the visit. Later in her office, Matthew found a little toy medical kit. He seized the stethoscope stuck it in his ears and listened to for a heartbeat- in my knee. He then picked up the toy blood pressure cuff and wrapped it around my wrist and put the stethoscope on top. It seems that he was taking notes earlier.

The best toy by far was the midwife's measuring tape. He raced her to see who could push their button quickest to roll it back up. He also measured everything in the office. Matthew measured toys, chairs, my foot, leg, his arm, ect.

-Rachel

Peanut flashback

Rachel and I were talking about baby #2 on the way and wondering whether it will be an easier baby than Matthew. "Maybe it will be a happy baby that just wants to eat, sleep, and burp," I said. "... And poop, and pee on Daddy," I added, remembering. "Remember how he used to pee on himself?" Rachel asked. "He'd spray himself in the face and get apoplectic with rage. He'd wave his little fists around and his whole face would turn red with anger."

I thought, and still think, that it served him right. :)

Learning the ABs

I've been teaching Matthew the alphabet when he sticks a pen in front of me and asks me to draw something. (Hey, Dad's not much of an artist.) Last night at the table he wanted me to draw them over and over on his magna-doodle toy. Then he wanted me to help him do the drawing.

He's quite good at recognizing them now, but doesn't seem to have the dexterity to do it himself. Even this afternoon when we were drawing huge As and Bs on the driveway with chalk, it was beyond him. Then again, he only tried a couple times before getting distracted by all the cool things there are to do Outside.

Playground romance

The weather reached the upper 40s today, and Matthew was climbing the walls, so we decided to go to the park. As soon as we arrived I heard an estatic cry from the back seat, "Yea! We're here!" I released him from his carseat, and he bounded and leaped all over the park like a frisky colt. It's been several months since we regularly made trips to the park and he's missed it. Some time later a little two year old girl arrived. As they played together, it became apparent that they had common interests and communication skills. Namely climbing, piling dirt, and saying, "Mine! No!" Something in Matthew must have caught her eye though. She came up to him gave him a hug and his first kiss. Matthew, for his part, appeared nonchalant. He then darted to the swings and enjoyed another half hour of swinging before his Mama got too cold and the sky dark enough to call it quits. Matthew, alas, is never done with the park and had to be carted kicking a screaming "outside, outside" to the car. The promise of seeing Dada appeased him somewhat, and the car ride home was peaceful.

-Rachel

Red Stop. Green GO!

While stopped at an intersection, Matthew stated "la ligh...red" (the light...red). I told him that's right, the light is red. When it's red we stop. It turned green and he announced the fact. Yep, it's green, and we go. For the rest of the way home he told me when to stop, and then gleefully shouted "gree, GO!" when it was time to go.

-Rachel

Big boys don't do car seats

We consigned Matthew's high chair to basement storage a couple weeks ago in favor of a booster seat at the big-person table. (Rachel is hoping that baby #2 will be a gentle soul. Certainly it wouldn't last through another Matthew.)

Today I took him down to Provo with me to pick up an old p3 motherboard from Ellis that might be less broken than the one I have. When we were leaving I set him down, opened the door, and told him to get in while I set the motherboard down. He got in and started buckling himself with a grin into one of the passenger seats!

I relocated him to the car seat. He didn't protest, fortunately. If he starts to get serious about ditching the car seat he's going to be an unhappy peanut until he grows quite a bit more.

A Prayer

Jonathan and I have been teaching Matthew about prayers, but we didn't think it was sinking in yet. This evening we were waiting for Jonathan to get home and Matthew couldn't wait any longer for dinner. I put him at the table with a sandwich and milk. He took a couple of bites, stopped and said "a praywer" with his arms folded and blonde head bowed. You're right Matthew we need a prayer. I blessed the food, he said "Ma-men," and then happily munched away. They really are watching, aren't they?

-Rachel

Block time

While stalling to avoid bedtime, Matthew was playing blocks with me. He decided to imitate Dad. I was lying down with my arm propping my head up, so Matthew (somewhat judiciously) set his elbow on the ground and his head in his hand too. This, he apparently decided, was proper block-stacking technique.

We also built the largest block structure yet, and Matthew was actually disappointed instead of exultant when he toppled it by an unfortunate placement.

Pulling the wool over Daddy's eyes

This morning I dawdled a bit dressing for work, leaving Matthew ample time for mischief. I hustled into the silence, fully expecting him to be into the dishwasher -- but he wasn't. The dishwasher was still closed and Matthew was sliding innocently down the stairs to the basement.

With his salad tongs in his hands.

The ones that I put in the dishwasher last night.

What a sneaky peanut. :)