I couldn't make it up if I tried

You say your name is Tappin. And that you're from Tappindor.

Ode to a Jeep

You love Jeeps.

You LOVE them.

In the car, you are always on the lookout for a Jeep to go by. You announce it like this: "I just saw a red Jeep! It had a spare tire and black wheels and its spare tire was not covered!"

On a walk, you make us stop and touch any parked Jeep we find. "I love this Jeep!" you'll say. "It's the nicest Jeep I ever saw! Look how big its wheels are."

You have a small but growing collection of Jeep vehicles (Hot Wheels and such). Red seems to be your favorite color but you are thrilled with any Jeep at all. 

We've talked about saving up enough money to buy you a Jeep when you turn 16 or 18. Unless we win the lottery, it's not going to happen, love. By then you'd probably be too cool for a Jeep anyway. You'd want a Dodge Charger or a Ford Mustang and you'd think your parents just can't keep up with what's cool.

Will you ever feel that way?

I can guarantee it. ;)

One day, though, I hope you'll realize that there's no good use for "cool" and a whole lot of use for smart decisions and all those sensible things your parents have come to understand.

Until then, Jeep on, my love.

Cleverness in abundance

Sam is very smart. He understands and retains new things after just one explanation. Ah, the spritely maneuverings of a young brain.

He is generous, too. He likes to share his treats with me even if it means giving up half of something he really likes - like a cookie. It's heartwarming. I try to accept, because it makes him happy.

Today my little parrot told me:

"I am just a little sick. It's ok to be sick sometimes. When you are sick, you have a cold. When you are better, you are not sick."

(He is getting over a nasty run of croup. Poor guy still has a congested cough and a lot of snot.)

And this one, while playing together with his Matchbox cars:
"I am going to go get you another car. It's going to be my favorite color. It's going to be... Blue. Bye, Momma. Have a nice week."

We also had this conversation as I was making breakfast:

Me: Do you want me to sing you a song?
Sam: No, I do not.
Me: Why? Are you trying to hurt my feelings?
Sam: I am trying to hurt your feelings.

Perhaps less than heartwarming. But very funny.

Also very quotable

Sam: I'm going to make you disappear! Dis-a-dis!
Mom: I'm gone now! When can I come back?
Sam: In twenty-two years.
Mom: Twenty-two years is a long time! You'll probably be done with college by then! Are you going to go to college?
Sam: Yes. And I am going to Costco.


Sam: Momma, my ears are slowing me down.
Mom: I don't understand that.

Sam: I love you, Momma. You smell like macaroni.

What he said

"Mama, mama, mama! My hand not listening to me!"

"Probably I have need some chocolate milk."

You: "I did cried."
Me: "Why did you cry?"
You: "Because I did cried."

Daddy: "How are you?"
You: "Me OK."

"I love you, mama. And I love Howie. And I love your baby."

"I love you, mama. And you know who else I love? That guy." [points to Daddy]

"One, two, three four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten." (12/16/2013)

"Look, mama! A hole! Probably a man did that."

"No! Possie!! No go in my sandbox!"

Dad: "What's the magic word?"
You: "Potus, Potus, Potus."
Dad to me: "What's 'Potus, Potus, Potus?'"
Me: "Hokus pokus. Apparently Mickey Mouse taught him about magic before we taught him about manners."

Most all done

Doodle,

Your mastery of language continues to steam full speed ahead. You like to ask me if I am "most all done?" with whatever is boring you. That's because you hear me telling you I'm "almost done" pretty often. It's hard to believe you could ever be bored. You find a way to make mischief out of anything. When do you find time to get bored?

You LOVE to watch me bake or cook. If I'm in the kitchen preparing something and you notice, you are quick to get your "little yellow chair" from the kitchen table. You drag it over to me (usually insisting that I move so you can better see what I've got on the counter) and step up high to watch. Sometimes you add the flour or sugar to the cookies for me. You are always hoping I'm making cookies. :) I don't blame you!

This pregnancy I have been baking a lot. Your little sister is also always hoping I am making cookies. You two will get along well, I think.

You love, love, love books and going to the library. We're going to go to the library tomorrow to pick up some new books. I found a new author that makes truck stories - Jon Sczieska or something like that. I now have a hold request on eight more of his stories because you like the first one so well.

We will also play outside tomorrow if the weather is warm enough. Outside is heaven to you. Today we went out and you went directly to a stash of possum poop that has been deposited on our back rock wall. You're fascinated by it, though you don't touch it (thank you so much). You did touch the bird poop that had splatted onto the outdoor table, not believing that something so splashy looking could be poop. And now you know, dear boy.

When I was outside with you, you said "Baby is being a very good boy. And you are being a good boy, too, Mama." Thank you! That's high praise coming from you. Really, it is.

You got chickenpox last week - a mild case with about 150 blisters. It broke my heart, but I'm so glad it was such a merciful case. You haven't had any new pox in about five days now, and some of your scabs are falling off. I suspect you are helping them fall off, though I've only seen you touching them once or twice. What a good boy.

We are waiting for Daddy to come home from Charlotte. We will be by ourselves again tomorrow. Let's have lots of fun making cookies and checking out books! I love you so much.

The happiest words

Most days, the sweetest words I hear all day are these two:

"Hi, Momma!"

You say it so nicely! So I say a lot of "Hi, Cookie!" to you. You respond back right away. What a nice boy!

Your new nicknames are Cookie and Tookus. You do hear your given name a few times each day, too, and not just when you're into mischief.

Sometimes you ARE into mischief. How...darling...? Hmm.

Ever yours,
Momma