Old Blog Posts: September 2008

This morning, 8am:

Will walks over to the freezer and opens it up and begins browsing.  Presumably for ice cream.

Traci: “Are you hungry?  I’ll get you some cereal.  Close that door.”

Will looks at the door and back and me.

Traci: “Will, close the door or you go to the naught corner.”

Will leaves the door open and comes running over to Traci and starts hugging her.  And sighing “hmmm.  hmmm.”

Traci: “Thank you.  But you still have to close the door.”

More hugs.

Traci: “Close the door or you go to the naughty corner.”

Will: “No!” followed by more hugging and snuggles

Traci:  “Naughty corner because you didn’t listen to mommy.”

Will hugs Traci all the way to the naught corner, gripping on tight.

Will called his grandpa on Skype today from Nic’s computer.  I was answering email and the next thing I heard was Tony’s voice over the speaker “Hello!” and Will’s little “hello?  hello?  hello?”

You know that annoying song that goes “i likes to move it, move it, i like to move it, move it”  I replaced the tune/beat with the lyrics “I love my Willie Willie” and do an accompanying dance and now it’s Will’s favorite song.  He gets a giant smile on his face and mimics my retarded dancing.

He now not only plays the “how big is willie?” game, but also the “how cute is willie?” game.  The answer?  “SOOO cute!!”

He occassionally calls Nic “stinky poo da.”  (my greatest accomplishment in life.)

He farts and then looks at me and says “stinky mom.”  (nic’s greatest accomplishment in life.)

He loves to sing the ABCs with me.  He sings the G, K, P, R, S, V, X, and [sing with] ME parts every time and occassionally throws in a few of the other letters.

He likes to play “squish you” games with Nic…which is basically just them sitting on each other and saying “I’m going to squish you!” (or in will’s case “squish, squish, squish!”)

He’s on another one of our ‘you’re banned from ’shows’ for a while” kicks.  We keep kicking him out of the house and forcing him to play in the backyard instead of crawling all over us while we try to work.  It’s working well.

He told me he had to pee while we were at Costco yesterday so I took him out of the cart to run him to the bathroom and when I turned around he was standing next to the cart with his pants around his ankles, trying to get them fully off.  We had to talk about the fact that it’s not okay to take your pants off until you’re actually next to the potty.  The middle of Costco is not the place to drop trou.

He stands up to pee sometimes.  He’s pretty good at it.  I like it when he stands there and holds his weiner in both hands and squeezes it like a toothpaste tube.  It makes me laugh.

His hair is sort of growing back.

He likes to be put to sleep under all three of his main blane[kets]s.  His old number one blanket had to be retired because it was mine first, and we want to have it for the next baby, and Will was loving it to death.  Apparently it takes three blanes to make up for his old main blane.  His yellow blane that Kelly made goes first (this is alternately called “softy blane”), his green blane that my mom made goes next, and his white blane that Nana made goes last.  Keep in mind that it is September in Colorado, which is sort of like August in Seattle.  So inevitably I go in to check on him an hour later and he’s drenched in sweat, but still tucked in up to his chin with his three blanes.  So I take the top two off as soon as he’s asleep.  He hasn’t caught on to my devious ways yet.

He doesn’t like messes.  You don’t have to tell him that it’s a bad mess that he made, you just have to tell him that he made a mess.  He feels almost as strongly about this as I do.  He can’t seem to recognize a mess on his own…but once you label it, he knows: no good.

He is still terrifyed of car washes.  We’ve been doing it the old fashioned way all summer, but I had to take mine in yesterday (someone attempted to do it herself without mature adult supervision and left soap spots all over it) and Will whimpered and covered his eyes the whole time.  It was hilarious.  I mean sad.

We have just one wedding left in our 5 week marathon before a three week break from weddings (not from shoots, but from weddings).  I’m looking forward to that very much.  This last one is going to be a toughie, so I’m ready for Sunday’s “WHEW!”

I got Nic addicted to Facebook.  After three years of listening to him call it stupid.  I figure it will only take another year before he’s addicted to twitter, too.  (sorry, those last two weren’t really about will…but I got sidetracked.)

 Willie just asked me to “fix it, please, mom?!”

First of all, I would like to say that I am a woman under enormous pressure and deadlines and stress.  So sometimes, details like which hair clippers the hair cutter uses on Nic, and which ones the hair cutter uses on Will, get mixed up in my head.

Will needed a haircut BADLY.  I’d been wanting to get his hair cut for weeks and weeks.  He looked like a hippy.  Whose mother was too busy to get his hair cut.

So I finally got him into the hair cut place last week, and I went to a cheap adult place instead of his fancy kid place which has his hair cut all programmed into the computer.  This new place doesn’t know Will, so when I said “#1 on the sides, #4 on top,” they didn’t know that is NIC’S haircut, not Will’s.  And then when she ran the #4 in a strip across his head and three inches of hair fell to his shoulds, it was too late to say “oops!  #4 on the SIDES…SCISSORS on top.”

So now he’s a mini me for Nic.

And I forgot that I wasn’t going to let Joan see any pictures of Will for a few weeks.  I sent her one of Will tearing into a chicken breast last night, and her one line reply totally cracked me up:

“WTF happened to his hair?!”

Ooops.  Sorry.  It will grow back.  I think.