Housekeeping

So, in the name of keeping up with the chilly month of January, here's some blog housekeeping:

Grant's Birthday
Post some of Grant's B-day pics. For his little party with Bret's family, he received presents that screamed "male child lives here": a soccer ball, a football, a basketball (two actually), a t-ball set and baseball, golf clubs, not to mention Thomas stuff galore. He was one happy kid. Again, he wasn't remotely interested in his cake, but like last year, his favorite part: everybody singing happy birthday!

This picture is the new "Tiger Who?"-two handed, two-clubbed golf swing.



Tagged
My cousin Kathy tagged me to go to my fourth picture folder and put up my fourth picture and tell about it. Anyone else who blogs, it's a fun little exercise you should try. This folder was all about Grant's new room, a blog I never wrote and probably never will. Grant moved to his "big boy bed" without incident, all in one evening. But, poor thing, Grant essentially lived in the office until I could get the room repainted and redecorated. Now, Grant lives in pale blue/steel grayish room full of trains, dump trucks, airplanes and more. This is Grant's "wardrobe" as the closet in his room is full of office stuff. It's nothing more than garage shelving, but I found the wallpaper decals on sale for 5 bucks and added them for a little bit of little boy flair.



Growing Up Quickly

Grant reminds us daily that he is all boy. He loves to grunt, play, push, and tackle. We've started some tentative steps toward potty training, and he can drink from an open cup without incident. He still has plenty of sensory issues (tags in his shirts are starting to be a problem), and so food continues to be a big challenge. He eats spinach dip until he's practically green, so at least we're getting some veggies in him. He's finally eating most meats, but he's still pretty picky. And despite my most persistent parenting measures, I can't get Grant to cover his mouth when he sneezes or coughs, a skill I find some of my own high school students have failed to grasp.

He still talks a blue streak, and he loves to sing. He sings everything from "Jesus Loves Me" to "Frosty the Snowman," but he's also got a special place in his heart for hymns. Bret sings hymns to Grant nightly, and Grant's favorite is "Trust and Obey," a song he'll sing for you if he likes you. I fancy myself something of a jingle writer, and Grant actually think there's a song for everything. For example, he'll say, "sing the bulldozer song, Mommy," but we all know there's no such thing. And, I'll tell Grant that I don't know a bulldozer song. But, he knows his Mommy's soft spot for thinking herself creative, and he'll ask me to "make one." I now have entire songs for Bob the Builder, every engine on the Island of Sodor, songs about letters in the alphabet, and of course, songs about Grant. They are terrible, but Grant loves them, and in the end, that's all that matters.

Grant can count to 20, sing his ABCs (though "I" through "L" are sketchy, and I'm pretty sure he thinks LMNOP is said "elmo pees"), identifies most letters, colors and shapes. To be silly, I thought I'd teach Grant some "adult" words, but they've stuck, which now just makes him weird. For example, Grant uses the word cantankerous in common conversation. Or, triceratops. Or, frigid. I'm done now. I swear. I don't want "the strange kid." We'll put his memorization skills to better use... maybe the Greek Alphabet. Just kidding. Kind of. I think Grant is smart, but what I think he can do with amazing ability is remember; that kid's memory is a steel trap. He remembers what the presents people got him for Christmas. I don't even remember that. But, before you think he's too smart, he still chews on his socks.

My favorite thing of recent is Grant's imaginative play. When he plays with his trains now, they talk to each other. But the best part is that he talks like he is reading a book (actual conversation with his trains): "'Look at that mountain,' Percy groaned. 'I'll try it,' Percy huffed." I could die it's so cute. Or, sometimes, he breaks into Thomas speak in the most un-Thomas of places. You know your son is a Thomas fan when he's playing at the park and yells, "Cinders and ashes, I fell," or "Bust my buffers, mommy" in the grocery store.

More to come... just give us time.