Confessions of shopping with a two-year-old

Confession #1:  I let him play in the play area at Once Upon a Child unsupervised.  I made sure the lady behind the counter knew who he belonged to, then I went to the clothing section where I could only *sort of* see him.  

Confession #2:  I led said two-year-old to believe we were going shopping for a new 'tato head.  I looked for the potato head for a total of three seconds before giving up.  We need a new 'tato head like we need a hole in the head.

Confession #3:  We were out of clean underwear so I made him wear a diaper.  It was bulky cloth so I made him try on the clothes sans undergarments of any sort.  

Confession #4:  When I took the diaper off, his face went blank and he said "I need to pee".  I quickly peeked out the door of the dressing room to see if I could find a potty, no luck.  So I picked up the diaper and made him pee onto it.  He was not impressed.  "It will be dinky (stinky)", he said.

Confession #5:  I picked out a shirt that looked like the neck was pretty small (remember the two-year-old has a head circumference in the 100th percentile) and though it took 30 seconds, I forced it over his big head.  He cried!  I felt so horrible that I almost cried.  All for a shirt that didn't even fit.

The funniest thing about the whole shopping experience was the conversation that proceeded the trying on. 

Me:  We need to buy some clothes for you.

Asher:  I don't need any cose; I alweady have all my cose.

Me:  You don't have any summer clothes, that's what we're looking for.

Asher:  I have a hat, a bucket hat.  And lots of warm hats.

Me:  Well, yes, that's true.

In his mind, the bucket hat we bought for summer was his summer wardrobe, along with his winter hats, of course.  Actually, as much as this child likes to be naked, that is probably truer than I'd like to believe.

Okay, here it is

As many have you have noticed (and mentioned), I have become quite the blog slacker.  You might count back to the origin of the slacking and notice that it coincides almost to the day to the start of this pregnancy.  All-day-long nausea hit hard and fast at 5 weeks, 3 days this time.  I seriously spent most of the first trimester on the sofa, trying not to die.  Though I am still sick from 3:00 pm on, it is getting better day by day.  So maybe the blog posts will pick back up.

I plan to start posting pictures from Asher's birthday (Nov 14th) this week and will work my way up to the present.  He's changed so much in three short months!  We find out the sex of this baby on next Monday, so pray that everything is going well developmentally.  

Hirsh's need your prayers

There is a family that I know that is in desperate need of prayers for their little boy, Cayden.  He was born early and is having some pretty serious difficulties.  Please click here for more information and lift this family up to the Lord.  

Click on the editorial to read, it's worth it!

One of our acquaintances from college's dad (did you follow that?) has a great blog and I stole this from it. I agree wholeheartedly.

What a blessing

This morning while dropping Asher off at the toddler room (aka the nursery), I realized what a 180 degree turn we had made.  In Danville, Asher started to cry hysterically when we dropped him off.  One time it was so bad they had to call in an extra worker just for Asher to get him to calm down.  I was dreading taking him to church at Westover and the first couple Sundays he didn't disappoint.  I grumbled and complained to Logan about having men in the nursery and how if they would just have ladies in there, I was sure it wouldn't be like this.  

Fast forward to this morning, Asher ran to the door lifted his arms up to the MAN and happily went to play with the other kids.  He barely even said goodbye to me.  It makes my Sunday morning so much easier and less stressful when I know that he is not freaking out downstairs.  I'm just so thankful that the Lord has given him courage to go without in there without me, and me the peace of knowing that he's content.

Missy

Last week at the Children's Museum, Asher discovered that there are things in this world that represent human babies but are meant to be held by toddlers (unlike human babies), ie, dolls.  He loved and fed and rocked and cradled the museum's dolls for about thirty minutes last week.  I didn't think too much of it until we purchased a doll for our Operation Christmas Child box and he requested to hold it in the car.  About halfway home I hear from the backseat, "Ut's 'ong, baby, ut's 'ong baby?  'Ant me wock you?  'Ant me put you in you bed?"  He asked this doll these same questions over and over for the next ten minutes.  It gave me a rare glimpse of my parenting through his eyes as I realized those were my words of comfort coming from his little mouth.    He loved that doll so much over the next 12 hours that I had to sew her head back on before putting her in the box (she was from the dollar store).  

So began the doll hunt.  

I searched in stores and online only to find that the market for a caucasian boy dolls is a very narrow one.  I found many caucasian girl dolls, even more "ethnic" girl dolls, and a few boy dolls, even one that was anatomically correct, yikes!  The ones I found most appropriate ranged in price from $50-$130, not a pricepoint I was really looking for.  So I was in a quandry, I wanted a doll but was not willing to fork over the cash, so my mission stalled.

Today at the museum my eyes were opened to the fact that Asher didn't care if the doll was a Waldorf-style or stuffed with organic wool, caucasian or ethnic, in fact, he didn't even care if it was a boy or girl.  So I found a $10 doll at Walmart and he LOVES her.  She is the size of a newborn, so I went to the attic and got one of his newborn hats and gowns to make "her" into a boy (easily accomplished because $10 doesn't get you anatomical correctness).   About an hour after the new clothes were donned and he was christened "Jackson", I hear Asher saying, "'Ut's 'ong, Missy?  'Y you cyin'?"  So Missy it is.  

Asher is now sleeping contentedly next to Missy with her bottle and her taggie.  And I am glad I didn't spend a small fortune needlessly.  Pictures to follow soon.  

Comparison

A couple at the fall festival told us Asher looked just like the baby on the etrade commercial.  I checked it out and they do look kind of similar.  Too bad it's not really us making the money from the commerical!