I'm Silly, Either!

Lately Tate has had trouble differentiating between the usage of the words "too" and "either". If he sees me eating, he'll say "I want something to eat, either!"or it's "My head is pounding from my incessant shrieking and running about like a banshee, either!!". It doesn't really make sense but it kinda does, in a two-year-old type way. Unlike when we asked him what Mommy's name was and he replied "Fffffttt...Up in the Sky!". I hear that name's going to be quite popular in the coming years. It fits me well, I believe. I look like a Fffffttt.

So last night we took the kids to a reception/dinner-type thingy at our church for newer members. Sheesh. Let me just say, it's a good thing this was at God's house, cause I think any other host would have booted us out after about 2 minutes. God's pretty chill, though. He knows what's up. As soon as we got in there and took Tate's jacket off, he was off like a shot. He would just run until he hit a table or a wall or an old man's legs and then ricochet off and run back the way he came. It was a little stressful, trying to weave through groups of oblivious smiling people in name tags trying to ensnare my kid before he knocked over the table full of baked goods or some little old lady. People would try to talk to us and catch a glimpse of Tate knocking chairs over or veering off his path of destruction to deliberately step on Nora's fingers or pull her hair, and they would kind of...fall silent. It was like they couldn't talk and watch the train wreck at the same time. We heard lots of "Well, he certainly is...energetic, isn't he?". Yep, energetic is definitely one of many words for it.

Then we came home, put Nora to bed, the sitter came, Tate freaked out, and we left. Because, usually, when we leave, the freak-out lasts for about 3 minutes, the sitter offers Tate food, and all is well. But this is a fairly new sitter and I guess Tate just hadn't really sussed her out that well yet, and he hit a level of beserk-ness (no, that's not a real word) that we don't often see 'round these parts. We got two phone calls from the poor sitter wondering just how one stops Tate from banging his head on the floor and screaming like someone was cutting his nads off. The poor girl was probably about to pack up and head out. We were on our way back home (after getting a new nose stud for me....hello, we have priorities) when she called a third time and stated that the craziness had been quelled, at least temporarily. Temporary is good for us, so we turned the car back around and headed for the bar.

It was a great time, with great friends. We drank, came home, were told that Tate did in fact calm down and stop trying to put a dent in the floor with his head, and sent the sitter home. Maybe we shall see her again someday, maybe not. She's probably scarred for life. Ah well.

In other news, Eric took both kidlets to the Children's Museum in Appleton. Here are some pictures. Just cause I feel like photowhoring my children, so photowhore I shall.

Doing a little shopping.

Yeah, so this is my jet. Wanna ride?