Tales from the Crib (Week 81)

I love ice cream! Up until now, my mom and dad have only given me yogurt but I could really get used to this ice cream thing. This week, my mom gave me ice cream in my green mug. Every time I took a bite, it would freeze my teeth and make my shoulders scrunch-up into my back. Eating ice cream is a little uncomfortable but it is definitely worth it.

They say that separation anxiety comes in phases. After my parents went away to New York for five days, the thought of my "mama" leaving the room is terrifying. In fact, to make sure that she doesn't go far, I cry and yell mama until I can make eye contact with her again. Mama. It is probably my favorite word right now (closely followed by "no", "moon", and "einsteins"), which I insert into every conversation I can, no matter the topic.

This week, I introduced another new habit. I call it the "screech". This involves screaming in a random way (like a parrot). Sometimes, I use the screech just to get attention; sometimes to make a point about a situation that I am very excited about; usually, just to hear myself sound like a bird.

I spent many hours this week also practicing my jump shot and kicking the soccer ball around the backyard. I prefer to place the ball very precisely in front of my foot and get a clean kick at the ball. If on the move, I can dribble the ball (somewhat), but that usually ends with me getting my foot caught on the ball and falling over forward and onto my face.

Also, I helped my dad in the backyard. Here is a picture of my helping him fix the fence and rake-up the old rocks and rabble. There are not many people who can do this kind of serious work with a bucket on their head. I have all kinds of special skills that I add to the job and getting better every day. I am getting very good at using the rake and the shovel to move leaves around the yard-especially the piles of leaves that my dad has already made. We are a good team when we work together and I say thank you every time I take the shovel away from him.

The big news, other than making it halfway through church before being sent to the nursery, was that I got my hair cut at the barber. My mom and dad took me to the barbershop and I only turned bright red and cried a little...all the way through the experience. It was probably the worst experience of my life...worse than the shots. At the end of my haircut, I had a lollypop stuck in my hair and I was so sweaty that the barber had to blow dry my entire body. Glad I never have to do that again (at least that is what they tell me).