What You Can Get For a Couple of Quarters

Usually I just let him climb on the Bob the Builder toy and let him pretend it's running. But last time I decided I should put some coins in and see how he liked it.


The tractor moved up and down, the song played. "Bob the Builder, can we build it? Yes we can!"



When it was over, all he had to say was, "More. More."

What? Does he think I'm made of money?

Like Mother, Like Son

I don't think there are many things as horrific as tooth injuries.

I should know.

I have ran screaming to a mirror on more than one occasion in my lifetime after a particularly bad fall. Nothing can describe the trauma of seeing the damage done to a set of much beloved front teeth. I am one of those people who, if I was a pioneer, I wouldn't have any front teeth. It is by the grace of modern dentistry that I have a pearly white smile.

That being said, guess what my son did on Sunday morning?

I'll start at the beginning. Everyone loves a good horror story.

So there I was, loading my hands with a water bottle and a comb in order to attack the boy's mangy morning hair. I am one of those unlucky wives who's husband has early morning Church meetings and must therefore prepare self, child, lesson, and bag of entertainment to survive three hours of church, all by herself.

I was thus pre-occupied as I approached my son with my hands full. He was in the process of climbing the piano bench. This routine did not alarm me, but as I came closer I noticed that someone had tucked the bench under the piano (something I make a point NOT to do, since it allows less seat space for my teetering child to perch on).

I saw it coming. As he hoisted himself up and attempted to sit down where there was not a seat underneath him, I reached to try to save him. Maybe it was the fact that my hands were full. Maybe it was my big belly that slowed my reflexes. Whatever the reason, he fell. And as he fell, something hit the piano bench with a loud "crack".

I knew it was bad. I fearfully picked him up and tried to assess the damage. Is there blood in the mouth? Blood in the nose? No. As he screamed I tried to find the injury that I knew was lurking somewhere.

There.

His front teeth. Gone were the smooth, perfect little pearls of his babyhood. They were replaced with jagged, broken snaggle teeth.

My head spun as all my horrible memories of broken teeth came back to haunt me. This was simply too much for me to cope with in my hormonal state. He was crying, I was crying, my husband wasn't answering his phone. I couldn't remember the name of our dentist.

Finally Edmond stopped crying and began to point to a bug on the counter. He then wandered down the front walk and pointed to the "Wuwow fowers". I observed this behavior and noticed that other than his newly acquired habit of running his tongue across his scratchy front teeth, he seemed to be fine.

And so we went to church. Once there, my husband's presence calmed my nerves. We decided to take the boy to our dentist the next day.

At the appointment, the dentist said that there didn't appear to be any root damage. He recommended we see a child dentist if Edmond seemed to be in pain or we wanted to discuss cosmetic options. So, after our trip to Utah we will do just that. In the meantime, I get the chills every time I notice his little injury. I wish teeth grew back...just like fingernails.

Jumping the Gun

Guess what we did for family night on Monday night.



Our Christmas tree is always set up a week or two before Thanksgiving. That's just how we do it. Since we travel to Utah for the Thanksgiving holiday, we prefer to have the tree ready and waiting for us when we return home in early December.

"Baby," I said, as I hung an ornament on a limb, "I love our tree. Every year I love it. I think it's my favorite thing that we have."

"Well, that's good," B said. "It seems like you always get sick of the decorations you buy, so it's nice to see you like something for a long time."



Edmond likes the tree ok. He mostly likes the "big box."

This picture is blurry, but I thought I'd add it since it includes the odious pink stroller. Here she is, front and center. (And well used, I might add.)


And here's my love. Our tree. I look at her all day long. I like her best when her lights are on. I turn them on in the morning and they may or may not stay on all day (depending on who's asking).

Welcome back, Christmas tree. I missed you.

Good at Talking

This little guy is good at talking. At around 16 months he started talking about trucks, tractors, Papa and crackers. Since then he has learned really quickly and now can say all sorts of phrases. Here are some of them:

• "Daddy run" - One day we accidentally set off the house alarm and B had to run to turn it off. Ever since, Edmond shouts "Daddy run" and then B will run for him. He loves it.
• "Medmon mart" - Edmond's smart.
• He knows all the colors in the Crayola Crayon 8 pack. I can ask him what color something is and he will tell me what it is. "Bwoo, deen, bown, back, purpur, wuwow, dowange, ded." That's how he says them.
• He knows what the numbers 1, 3, 8, 9 and zero look like. If I point to them he will tell me the number.
• If I ask him how old he is, he will raise one finger and say "One!"...then sometimes he'll continue counting and say, "two.....eight....nine." It always reminds me how quickly he will grow up. Before I know it, he WILL be eight or nine.
• "Doo doo" - Thank you. He will say this when he wants something. For instance, a kid had a toy that Edmond wanted to play with so he walked up to the kid and reached for the toy and said "Doo doo."

"Babby's" House

Edmond loves to go to cousin Abby's house. Whenever we get in the car to go anywhere he says "Babby's houssse?" Usually I have to say, "No, honey, we're going to the store" or something lame like that. But sometimes, when it's his lucky day, I say, "Yes! We're going to Abby's house!" This always makes him laugh and then he'll begin to recite all the names of his cousins the whole way there. "Nanner, Sase, Nonner, Ooman, Babby".



When we ring the doorbell he is greeted by a hord of enthusiastic Edmond lovers. It's tradition for him to ask for a cracker right off the bat. They buy his favorite club crackers especially for him. They laugh and giggle when he asks for a "cacker" and they say, "He wants a cracker! Get him a cracker!"

The other day while we were there Chase was taking photos. These are some of them.

Sadly, "Babby's" house is the only place where I can leave Edmond and he will not miss me. He feels especially entertained and loved in that atmosphere, I've often told my sister-in-law Jenn that I think Edmond wishes he was in their family. He loves all the kids and all the action.

However, he does not love all kids and all action. He doesn't like nursery yet. In the two months that he's been going, B and I have only been able to leave him alone one time. All the other times he has cried for us and one of us has had to stay with him. He's perfectly happy there as long as he can see Mamma or Dadda somewhere in the room. We're hoping he will form a bond with someone in the class and then feel comfortable enough to stay.

Somebody Stop Me

I should be banned from H&M. I can't walk in that store without buying my son a new church outfit. This little vest and pants duo was only seventeen dollars. So I bought it and plopped it on our bed at home and told B, "I'm sorry. It was just so cute. You can shut me down any time you want to. I know he doesn't need it, but I couldn't help myself."

Seriously. Look at the little red hankerchief sticking out of the pocket and tell me you could have left this outfit on the rack.

We arrived at Stake conference and the teenage boy behind us whispered to his friend, "Look at that kid's tight vest."

Yeah, they were talking about our kid.

And yeah, his vest is "tight".

Merrily We Roll Along

These days, it's all about "pushing stuff". Edmond loves to push his wagon around the yard. He especially likes rugged terrain.

We were playing at the neighbor's house yesterday. They have two little girls with loads of cutesy dolls and strollers. Edmond discovered the joy of pushing the doll stroller and spent 30 minutes in heaven as he merrily pushed it up and down their driveway. He even chirped a little song as he went along.

The next day I made a special trip to the store to purchase a stroller in a manly red or blue. No such luck. The only color of stroller was pink, pink, and pink. So I bought him one. It was seven dollars. It has hearts all over it and the packaging said something like, "Princess Dreams". Edmond pushes his pink stroller all over the house. He puts his Teddy in it. He rams it at people's legs. He loves it. I love that he's entertained. I guess everyone's happy.

Cousins in Love

Cousin Taitum is just so lovable. That's all there is to it.




Edmond cannot get enough of her.

Whenever he hears her cry or sees her mother walk by with Taitum in her arms, Edmond is begging to "see...see". Then he leans his face into hers and says "Hi.....hi baby....hi...."

Then he covers her with kisses. He kisses her feet, her knee, her tummy, her head, whatever he can reach.

Oh, Baby Taitum. We love you.

Halloween 2009

We put Edmond in his Halloween costume for the last time and went trick or treating with his cousins. But not before he was able to do some digging in their flower garden.

We went around the block and got loads of candy.

And Edmond made sure that I saw the "moonuh" (moon).