The Weirdness, It is Everywhere

I know I haven't written in awhile, just haven't gotten around to it or haven't felt like it or whatever. We've just been putzing along in our little world of weirdness around here. Tate, in particular, is rocking the weird pretty impressively lately.

One of his new things is to purposely run into things, like the table, wall, dog, whatever, and exclaim "AH! Ow! Oh MY that hurt!". He'll do this constantly...just be walking down the hallway and all of a sudden make a sharp veer to the left and ram his big melon into the door frame. "Oh ME! OW!"

It was particularly amusing when he did it in the waiting room at the doctor's office today. He was wondering around as he is apt to do, and ran full-on into a chair. Everyone in the room gasped but like a good mom, I just sat there and waited for what I knew was coming. He stopped, rubbed his knee, glared at the chair and said "ARGH! DUDE! What the hell, chair??"

I really must just stop speaking when I'm around this child. First of all, as anyone who speaks to me in person on a regular basis can tell you, I say "dude" about 6 times a minute. I also, as pointed out to me recently, say "what the hell?" about 8 times a minute. Those phrases have pretty much been pounded into the kid's brain from day one. I'm surprised "dude" wasn't his first word. That would have been awesome.

Melodrama has just been running rampant around here. Everytime Tate climbs up on a chair, goes up the stairs, stands up, sits down, breathes, whatever, he starts groaning and sighing like it's just so hard being two. He's acting like a 90-year-old man in a two year old body.

"Ohhhhhhh, oh oh. Stairs are soooo hard. pant pant. Mommy, I'm wore out!" By the time the kid's 16 he'll be asking for orthopedic shoes, a walker, and one of those cool chairs you attach to your stair railing so you don't have to walk up.

He's been improving on the whole "Let's be nice to baby sister and not sit on her and bounce up and down" idea, but still has setbacks now and then. But at least now he'll ask before he causes her bodily harm. What the heck does he expect me to say??

"Poke Baby in the eye, Mommy?"

"Sure, Tate, poke it and scoop it right out of there! We'll just throw it in the fridge for later!"

"Pull Baby's hair, Mommy?"

"Yep, grab a nice chunk. I'll knit a little muffler out of it."

Nora's been exhibiting her own signs of weirdness. We like to start early in this family. For example, apparently eating paper just wasn't satisfying her needs anymore, so she moved on to diaper wipes. Mmmm...nice and moist. She'll figure out how to open the wipes pack, pull one out, suck on it til she's gotten all the juice out of it, pull another one out, do the same thing, repeat repeat repeat.

Let's take a look at the oddities, just for the heck of it.

Proof that we do indeed believe in making our kids as weird as possible as early as possible. Tate never had a chance.

And then there's me, going on a sleigh ride a few nights ago in subzero temperaures in the middle of what was basically a blizzard. Some people would call that weird, but I call it a freakin' blast. Everyone that wussed out, missed out. Here's me dressed like a man and not looking all that pretty. Bonus points if you can even figure out which one I am amongst all the bundled up-edness.

It was kickass.