Last Friday, I packed up my kid and picked up Amy (and her kid) and we went down to Elgin. Eric's other sister, Shannan, is getting married and his stepmom, Susan, hosted a shower for her on Saturday. Amy and I got there Friday afternoon to help cook and set up.
As soon as we got to the house, Sam attached himself to Eric's dad, Wally. He *loves* being with his Papa! No matter what Wally does, Sam wants to be right there with him.
They spent a good part of Friday evening walking around the yard. Sam looked so proud to be helping Papa with the yard. Wally got out a football and said, "Hut hut!" Sam completely fell apart - he thought that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. Every time Wally said it, Sam laughed a little harder, until he actually lost his balance and fell into the grass laughing.
During the shower on Saturday, Sam again got to spend some time in the yard with Wally. Sam found the dog's leashes and started winding himself up in them. He ended up pretty stuck, and that is how I found him.
Pictures are below.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Friday, April 27, 2007
Strike A Pose
Anyone with children knows how difficult (and expensive) it can be to keep little ones in clothes. Since Sam doesn't go to day care, he basically wears the same five outfits over and over. We recently were given two garbage bags full of clothes that will work for Sam for the next year - hurrah!
One of the items we were given is a short-sleeve, long-pants one-piece. It is covered in horizontal stripes in red, blue, yellow, and lime green, and has a similarly colored lion embroidered on the front. I admit it is a bit alarming, but it was free, and Sam needs play clothes. I washed it and put it in his dresser.
Sam watched me fold it and put it away. As soon as I shut the drawer, he opened it and pulled the multi-colored monster out. I put it back. He pulled it out. I eventually tired of the game and left.
That was a little over a week ago. Since then, I have found the outfit in question hidden all over our house. Once it was wedged in between the bars of his crib. He has managed to slip it behind the shower curtain and leave it in the tub. Most of the time, it is just laying, lifeless, in the hallway. Sam is trying his hardest to get rid of the offending article once and for all.
It appears that our little fashion critic has surprisingly good taste.
One of the items we were given is a short-sleeve, long-pants one-piece. It is covered in horizontal stripes in red, blue, yellow, and lime green, and has a similarly colored lion embroidered on the front. I admit it is a bit alarming, but it was free, and Sam needs play clothes. I washed it and put it in his dresser.
Sam watched me fold it and put it away. As soon as I shut the drawer, he opened it and pulled the multi-colored monster out. I put it back. He pulled it out. I eventually tired of the game and left.
That was a little over a week ago. Since then, I have found the outfit in question hidden all over our house. Once it was wedged in between the bars of his crib. He has managed to slip it behind the shower curtain and leave it in the tub. Most of the time, it is just laying, lifeless, in the hallway. Sam is trying his hardest to get rid of the offending article once and for all.
It appears that our little fashion critic has surprisingly good taste.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Sam's First Garage Sale
Last Friday and Saturday, we held a garage sale at our house. They were very long days and we all ended up exhausted. Sam, true to form, could not have been any sweeter.
He was either in his playpen in the front yard, in the living room (with the door open so I could see him), or being walked up and down the sidewalk by any one of us. He had to have been completely baffled by the people coming and going and by the piles of our stuff in the driveway. He took it all in stride.
Today, though, he is very happy to just be home with me and to cuddle, read books, and build towers.
Footnote: Our computer has a deadly virus and I am writing this as quickly as I can from my mother-in-law's house. I'll post when I can!
He was either in his playpen in the front yard, in the living room (with the door open so I could see him), or being walked up and down the sidewalk by any one of us. He had to have been completely baffled by the people coming and going and by the piles of our stuff in the driveway. He took it all in stride.
Today, though, he is very happy to just be home with me and to cuddle, read books, and build towers.
Footnote: Our computer has a deadly virus and I am writing this as quickly as I can from my mother-in-law's house. I'll post when I can!
Monday, April 16, 2007
Sam the Sicko
At 14 months old, Sam is really becoming his own person. One of the things that has amazed me is his developing sense of humor. There have been a couple times I have heard him guffaw at Elmo's World, and he giggles agreeably when we act silly. For the most part, however, it is becoming clear that he has inherited our sick sense of humor.
Sam *loves* when people stumble and fall. About a month ago, Eric caught his foot on the edge of the rug and just caught himself before he fell. Sam absolutely fell apart. He laughed for quite a while, like he was replaying it in his head.
One of the books Sam likes is One Fish, Two Fish by Dr. Seuss. He is interested but fairly unaffected by the whole story with the exception of one part. The line is, "Some are sad, some are glad, and some are very, very bad!" I act out the emotions, and for the last line I make my face very mean and angry and say it in my worst 'you're going to get it' voice. Sam bursts out laughing every time. He likes when I look mean and angry. Last night as I read it he actually spit, he laughed so hard.
The most unfortunate proof of Sam's demented mind is his newfound delight in Triumph the Insult Comic Dog. For those of you who don't know, Triumph is a puppet (I think he started out on Conan) and is just a vile, crude little creature. This puppet is known for being offensive and disgusting. Eric started mimicking a few of Triumph's catch phrases and Sam was just thrilled. I think Sam wishes Triumph lived with us.
With Eric and me as his parents, he really never stood a chance.
Sam *loves* when people stumble and fall. About a month ago, Eric caught his foot on the edge of the rug and just caught himself before he fell. Sam absolutely fell apart. He laughed for quite a while, like he was replaying it in his head.
One of the books Sam likes is One Fish, Two Fish by Dr. Seuss. He is interested but fairly unaffected by the whole story with the exception of one part. The line is, "Some are sad, some are glad, and some are very, very bad!" I act out the emotions, and for the last line I make my face very mean and angry and say it in my worst 'you're going to get it' voice. Sam bursts out laughing every time. He likes when I look mean and angry. Last night as I read it he actually spit, he laughed so hard.
The most unfortunate proof of Sam's demented mind is his newfound delight in Triumph the Insult Comic Dog. For those of you who don't know, Triumph is a puppet (I think he started out on Conan) and is just a vile, crude little creature. This puppet is known for being offensive and disgusting. Eric started mimicking a few of Triumph's catch phrases and Sam was just thrilled. I think Sam wishes Triumph lived with us.
With Eric and me as his parents, he really never stood a chance.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Gimme A Head With Hair
I have always loved Eric's hair. Mine is wavy in all the wrong places and is a weird, mousy-brown color. Eric has thick, straight, brown-black hair that has always reminded me of a horse's mane. I think we have his Native American ancestors to thank for his one-in-a-million head of hair. In high school, I once made Eric grow his hair out because I couldn't bear to think of it being wasted by a haircut. He ended up with a bizarre bowl-shaped style and I'm no longer allowed to help him with decisions like that.
In any event, one of the things I desperately hoped for my unborn baby was to be blessed with his/her father's gorgeous hair. Mine is a legacy that needed to be snuffed out. I chose to listen to the old wives tales and look at my incessant pregnancy heartburn as a good thing - it was a sure sign of a baby with a lot of hair!
Sure enough, Sam was born with a full head of beautiful black hair (hallelujah!). At the time, we thought he had so much of it, and now I look at his baby pictures and think it looks quite sparse. At the very least I can admit he was never bald.
I attempted Sam's first haircut when he was about six months old. The pieces hanging over his ears were driving me crazy and I simply snipped them off with a regular pair of scissors. Since then, his haircuts have become much more complex, not to mention much more combative. The kid is 13 months old and does not have the slightest interest in sitting quietly to let me clean him up a bit.
In desperation, I started giving him haircuts while he is in the tub. With a pair of manicure scissors in one hand, I wildly grab hunks of hair and snip away until he manages to wriggle out of my grasp. This process works surprisingly well for us. Last night I gave Sam his fourth haircut and he looks like a sweet, clean, tidy little boy.
Just as long as no one notices the bald patch behind his right ear.
In any event, one of the things I desperately hoped for my unborn baby was to be blessed with his/her father's gorgeous hair. Mine is a legacy that needed to be snuffed out. I chose to listen to the old wives tales and look at my incessant pregnancy heartburn as a good thing - it was a sure sign of a baby with a lot of hair!
Sure enough, Sam was born with a full head of beautiful black hair (hallelujah!). At the time, we thought he had so much of it, and now I look at his baby pictures and think it looks quite sparse. At the very least I can admit he was never bald.
I attempted Sam's first haircut when he was about six months old. The pieces hanging over his ears were driving me crazy and I simply snipped them off with a regular pair of scissors. Since then, his haircuts have become much more complex, not to mention much more combative. The kid is 13 months old and does not have the slightest interest in sitting quietly to let me clean him up a bit.
In desperation, I started giving him haircuts while he is in the tub. With a pair of manicure scissors in one hand, I wildly grab hunks of hair and snip away until he manages to wriggle out of my grasp. This process works surprisingly well for us. Last night I gave Sam his fourth haircut and he looks like a sweet, clean, tidy little boy.
Just as long as no one notices the bald patch behind his right ear.
Sunday, April 8, 2007
Happy Easter!
It was a normal day at the Dailey household, but I want to wish all of you a happy, happy Easter.
He is risen!
He is risen!
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