In this month’s Ensign there was an article about technology and how it consumes us. Not all of us of course, but some of us. I am in the category of ’some of us’. There was a story of one girl who was always in “compose” mode. That’s me. I am always thinking of a blog I need to catch up on or an email I should write or something. This is not good. I can’t get out of compose mode sometimes when I need to sleep. It is quite frustrating. SO… I am going to cram all of the blogs I have been wanting to write into one. This is going to be one big jumble of a post, but I want to get these things written down so I don’t have to think about them anymore. Sound good? Ok, here we go…
Here are some things I have written down that Buddy has said lately:
We were telling the time and he said “After it’s S o’clock then it will be B o’clock.”
It was time to go to sleep but Buddy didn’t want to. Here was our conversation:
Buddy – “I wanna play with my daddy”
Amelda – “It’s time to go to sleep”
Buddy – “Weez my dad?”
Amelda– “He is going to sleep in his bed”
Buddy – “I want to give her a big hug.”
“I’m being really useful!”
Buddy was holding The Man’s head and he said “I’m taking care of you daddy.”
When he woke up he asked me “Did you have a fun time going to sleep?” “What did you dream about?”
If you tell him you like something or anything like that he says “Oh goooood.”
He woke up in the middle of the night crying:
Amelda– “What’s wrong? Are you ok?”
Buddy – “No. I just need a bag.” Amelda– “What kind of a bag?”
Buddy – “A bag with a bowl of cereal in it.”
Amelda– “How about some special water. Would that help?”
“I have to take a bath, I will be right back.”
When he sees a church he always points to it and yells out “CHURCH!” Well, now that we live in Utah, he is happy that he sees a lot of churches.
Fritz (Grandma Shirley’s horse) was out in the pasture. Buddy yelled to her from the gate: “Fritzy! Come ride us!”
The first day we got to our new state, Buddy was riding his bike and said that the big tree in the front yard was beautiful. Then he went to the back yard where there are 3 big trees and he said it was a jungle. Keep in mind we have been in Arizona for 2 years with rocks and tumbleweeks.
He says cute prayers. His usual prayer lately is: “Henny Thatha, we thank for blessings, we thank for this food, in the wumm of jesus christ, amen.” He went through about a week where he also said “we thank for mommy and daddy feel better.” He has also said “we thank for Grandma Shirley.”
He likes to ride the little Flinstone bike around the driveway. He pretends he goes to work. When I ask him what he did at work, he says he picked out some batteries, or videos. Once he said “I just feed Grandpa food in the highchair.”
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Buddy has a fascination with numbers. He is a smart little guy. He loves to count. Last week he counted to 109 with no help. After 109 it was “a hundred onety one. A hundred onety two. A hundred onety three…” etc. Then “a hundred two-ty two, a hundred two-ty three…” etc
He loves to play with the calculator and type in the numbers he knows. There is a silly math book that he picks out every time he picks out books to read. It’s called “Makers of Mathematics.” It doesn’t have any pictures and it’s some text book, but he brings it out with all the Dr. Seuss and other books in his pile.
He also loves words. My friend had the Your Baby Can Read DVDs and Buddy LOVED those. He memorized a few words. Yesterday I wrote a list of 23 words from his word books and the DVDs and he “read” 11 of them.
Alright, if you know anything about me (or if you read my blog) you know that I HATE cockroaches. Well we just moved to Utah and on our first day here I saw a little black spider creeping across the kitchen floor. I was SO happy to see that. I smiled and watched it walk across the floor. I wasn’t going to bother it because I was just so glad that the dear little thing wasn’t a disgusting cockroach. I thought he could live in our house with us and I would be just fine with it. If I never see a cockroach again in all my days I will be a happy person.