Songs He Wrote & Numbers He Counted

T Junior talks a lot.

No, I mean a lot.

On our 12-hour trip home from grandma's house yesterday, he chatted for more than two hours straight. Here's a teeny, tiny sample:

"A moon! A moon! A moon! A guck. A moon! A moon! Ma'amama's howse. Ma'amama's howse. A dight. A dight. A dight. Ma'amama's howse. No, no, Peaches! Cracka peas. Cracka peas. Daydoo!"

(Translation: A moon! A moon! A moon! A truck. A moon! A moon! Grandma's house. Grandma's house. A light. A light. A light. Grandma's house. No, no, Peaches (the dog at daycare)! Cracker, please. Cracker, please. Thank you!)

Mr. T had to turn off the radio to keep his sanity. But, not to worry! We had music! T Junior recently made up a couple of songs.

The first one is about us and goes like this:

"Da-da-da-DA-da-da...ma-ma-ma-MA-ma-ma!"

Since there were a lot of cows around where my mom lives, he sometimes adds a verse for them:

"Cows-cows-cows-COWS-cows-cows!"

He wrote another song after we had tacos (with avocados) for dinner a couple of nights ago:

"'Cados, 'cados, 'cados...beans, beans, beans!"

I need to get these on video! I also need to record him counting because I think people won't believe me when I tell them my 18-month-old can count to eight.

I discovered he could count when I was packing for our Christmas trip to Grandma's. I was putting socks in the suitcase and counting out loud: "Oooonnnne, twwwwooooo, threeeee, foouuur, fiiiiivvvve, siiiiix..."

"BEBEN!" T Junior yelled.

I stood up. What?

So, then we went through all the numbers and he could do it by himself. Only up to 8, though. After 8, he wants to go back to "beben" (seven). Not that he understands values, but I was, and still am, amazed that he can remember the correct order. And I love that he says the numbers all slow so that we'll understand. *wink*

Santa Photo 2009

Ask T Junior what Santa says and he'll answer.

"Ho, ho, hoooo!"

It's a great party trick.

But get him close to a "real" Santa and he clams up. He becomes frozen. Speechless. He just stares in amazement. Or maybe it's horror. Not sure.

Anyway, a couple of weekends ago, we went and had his picture taken with Santa. The garden center we went to had the cutest scene and Santa chair, but when we got there, we were less than impressed with the Santa. He didn't seem that jolly to me (maybe he needed more padding) and his beard was on a little crooked.

Mr. T held T Junior, who had a death grip on Dada's shirt.

The photographer had Santa hide for a few impromtu photos, but I don't think T Junior was convinced Santa was really gone.

The thing is, he was right. Santa was just around the corner. So when he reappeared, he tried to acquaint himself with the 1-1/2-year-old by looking at the Kissmus Chee.

It went well, but then poor T Junior's mean parents made him sit on Santa's lap.

T Junior's face twisted in horror and he screamed, "All do-one! All do-one! All do-one!"

Mr. T and I decided we would try a new Santa every year as a tradition. I think next year, we'll hit Cabela's for a Camo Santa!

Conversations with a 1-1/2-year-old Boy

Now that T Junior is 1-1/2, we can sort of have conversations. Lots of times it goes like this:

Me: T Junior, put the pillow back on the couch, please.

T Junior: Wiwwow.

Me: Yes, pillow. Put it back on the couch. No. On the couch. No, don't stand on it. Put it on the couch.

T Junior: Couch.

Me: Yes. Thank you.

T Junior: Daydo.

Okay, so they are still a little one-sided, but I think we understand each other for the most part. But a conversation the other day had me wondering if maybe we need to branch out on where we go during the week.

I was getting T Junior ready for bed on his changing table, putting "buh pays" (butt paste) on him, a fresh diaper and his "mammies" (jammies). He was cooperating for the most part. Then, out of the blue, we had this conversation:

Me: Are you sleepy?

T Junior: Map (nap).

Me: It's bedtime, buddy.

T Junior: Groshee stowa (grocery store)?

Me: Um, no, it's bedtime.

T Junior: Costco?

Me, giggling: Nope. Not Costco. Bedtime.

T Junior: REI?

Me, full out laughing: Not tonight, dude. It's bedtime.

I have no idea why he thought it was time run errands, but obviously we need to go to some different stores!