Micah scored some new used boots on the BPN this week. These are authentic from the Lone Star State itself. Here he is strutting his stuff during todays' dance party. Yee-haw!
Dancing is tough on the bladder. At one point it deserved a potty-break:
Micah selected some light toilet reading from the nearby book shelf: "Surely You're Joking Mr. Feynman."
Micah has a puppy, or a doggie, or sometime he refers to it as both "puppy-doggie". Puppy-doggie is our desperate attempt to create a security object who can stay with Micah as he falls asleep. For quite sometime now Micah has been going to bed nicely and sleeping through the night. It seems Micah does not want to go to bed anymore. With Zack's multi-day disappearances of late and the excitement of a toddler's life, bedtime has become a battle. The routine that previously got him in the sleepy-time mood: bath, P.J.s, warm milk, teeth brushing, story time and the lullaby Zack and I each sing him, now serve as a cue of what is to come: seperation, dark and loneliness. It's been a bit rough, but we're firm in our resolve that he must fall asleep on his own, well not entirely alone. Now he has puppy-doggie to comfort him.
Today I noticed Micah sucking on his floppy ears. The thought has crossed my mind that I may need to find a back up...just in case.
News flash: Yesterday Micah went pee three times in the potty (with a two-fer on the first occasion). In his excitement to show his daddy what he had made, he accidentally spilled the contents all over the carpet by the bathroom. I spent the morning sanitizing against fecal matter.
Today he relieved himself three times outside the confines of his diaper. I am pleased to report two of those times were in the potty and the third, well, the Oxy-clean I have says it is good for removing pet stains and the third time qualified. Oh, and I suppose in an effort at full disclosure: I shouldn't forget the two times he peed on me when he was "airing out" (as Zack likes to call it). Yep, these are exciting times around here. I know. I know. Enough with the poop talk.
I'll spare you another glimpse of my son's turds in all their glory and share this clip from our reggae dance party yesterday (the necklace is required dance wear per Micah's instructions):
Micah's grandparents G came for a visit last week. Here we are outside the Lawrence Hall of Science (we deemed the exhibit too old for Micah and went for a rather treacherous hike instead.)
Here Micah takes on the double helix of our DNA. Note the hordes of hyper school children in the background--I affectionately refer to them as thuglets. They eventually descended upon Micah and the DNA, but he held his own. Bernie, Micah and Mount Tam off in the distance... And the biggest tail of all: Aforementioned treacherous hike...Micah and Zack were in their element:
And now for a bedtime story for you all...(warning this reading is designed to make one fall to sleep--which you very well may do after watching all 1 minute 38 seconds of this video)
Zack claims Micah counted to five the other day. Apparently there were several rocks in front of them which Micah proceeded to count. To verify, Zack held three tiny rocks in his hand and asked Micah, "how many?" to which Micah responded, "one, two, three. Three rocks" After this video I am dubious, however.
We signed Micah up for "gymnastics" a few weeks ago thereby officially entering the realm of "extracurriculars-that-cost-how much?!" Any one who knows me knows that I come from circus clown stock (not to mention the first acrobats to ice skate on their hands and do a double flip flop ending with a somersault through a fiery hoop wearing ice skates). Micah hails from tumblers, strong men, contortionists and trapeze artists and has a fair amount of the theatre in his blood.
My granddad (had he been buried) would be turning in the proverbial grave at Micah's rather timid and pedestrian approach to gymnastics class. While others merrily romp on the rings, twist through tunnels, balance on beams, clamor on uneven bars and run around the fully padded room with reckless abandon, my son is content to watch...
and in a bolder moment, slide down the slide (ummm, aren't there like three of those within a two block radius of our home that don't cost money to go on?)
I make no apologies. Just enjoy what you can get. (But even I'll concede that three blog entries for entire month is rather lame.)
Micah's favorite expression/question of late is, "happened?" as in "what happened?" Sometimes the "what" is included, but I rather like the abbreviation. If only were could all be so parsimonious with our speech.
