Josh - Año Deux

Today is my second birthday.  I woke up at Goomba's after a weekend of inflatable entertainment, meals on demand and Japanese cartoons about animals that live in balls. Ah culture. Bubba's and I went to visit so Mamma and Dadda could spend time together, evidently to enjoy the illness and cold symptoms I endured last week. I suppose it would've been difficult for them to get off of the couch and tend to my demands when they were unable to move, as opposed to unwilling.

After a car ride home I walked in and noticed a giant Mickey [Mouse], I call him "icky", balloon tied to my chair and on my tray there was a present! Surely the illness must've affected my parents because the toy was not edible in the slightest. Fisher Price Little People toys are not for eating. . .usually. 

Who's hungry?

But I do eat the heads off of animals, or at least food shaped like animals. Look, we've established that I have a limited scope of experience. Some may say that I am the male equivalent of an ingenue, but I'd take offense to that. In either regard I've eaten a great variety of food, almost all of it a new experience and how am I supposed to know whether or not I'm being fed animal, vegetable, vegetable shaped animal, or animal shaped vegetable? Not to mention there's the outside chance it's still alive. I mean how else does food disappear from my tray? Surely the dogs wouldn't steal food from a baybee! Dadda however, I don't trust him near my food, maybe it's him. 

Anyway Mamma gave me a baby duckie and I'm pretty sure it was food shaped like an animal, but I bit the head off first just to be humane and avoid the risk of my food biting back. Now either it was a cupcake or little baby duckie eyes taste like M&M Minis.

Bite first, ask questions later.

Today I am cautiously optimistic two years old!

It's new to me.

Today I found myself the odd one out, socially speaking. I've learned that excitability can get you attention, both desired and unwanted. As an almost two-year-old, the majority of experiences are still new to me. However, it's important to keep my cool so as not to appear easily impressed. If it was up to my bubbas, any product advertised during a day time cartoon would be like a man waking up at noon. I mean sure it's incredible, but I have to play my cards right if I'm going to establish a lifetime of preferences. I've seen my hand-me-down clothes and these color combinations are obviously a result of a child whose preferences became clear early on, or the decisions where made for them in order to distinguish between him or his twin.


Anyway, today the family headed outside and someone erased all the color. It was cold and it looked like someone used the slider on the bottom of my Magna Doodle, only it affected the trees, the grass, and everything outside! I reserved judgment, while Bubba's and even Mamma and Dadda went crazy and starting rolling the stuff into balls and throwing it at each other. So we're playing out side then? Well, after a cursory examination of, what turned out to be a very bland and flavorless ice cream, I decided to go about my outdoor routine. I got the bucket of chalk, but soon found that there was nowhere to draw. I opted for an inflatable ball, but it rolled under the car. Then I got out the bubble wand and brought it to Dadda.

Sno Schmo, make with the bubbles!

Sure enough, once the bubbles came out the Bubbas were distracted and came chasing after the translucent spheres claiming that some were filled with ice from the cold air. Bubbas, so easily distracted. After I got bored with bubbles I explored the garage for awhile looking for  an oil filter wrench small enough to change the filter on my 2010 Froot Loop Yellow Tonka Dump Truck. It's been sputtering when idling for a few weeks now, but I guess I'll have to take it in to the mechanic. Finally I let myself back inside and enjoyed some Sesame Street and a room temperature juice box in a warm recliner. Let them have their snoday, I'm staying inside where nobody erases any colors but me.


Today I ain't no meteorologist like Big Bird!

What if I don't see my shadow?

Today I woke up and yup, I'm still sick. I'm sick of boogers. I'm sick of fevers. I'm sick of mandarin oranges and I'm sick of Goofy not getting it the first time. I mean c'mon isn't he like, seventy-eight years old? I'm only two and I can figure out most things quicker that that anthropomorphic dawg. That's when I realized that I'm being patronized! These children shows are all filled with idiotic characters whose sole purpose is to make me feel smart! Well, isn't that just great? So I'm supposed to grow up either deluding myself into thinking I'm a genius, or that one out of every five people is a moron. As I dwell on this epiphany for awhile longer, I think the latter is actually a pretty darn accurate, albeit cynical, perspective. I guess I should worry about being offensive, but in my defense, those that should be offended wouldn't get it anyway. Gawrsh!

I overheard Dadda mention that he has joined a stay-at-home Dad's group. He seems to think this will be an opportunity for me to terrorize  wrestle  meet some other kids my age. My question is, how is a group, whose name implies staying at home, going to meet anyone without leaving the house? I guess this is something similar to a public meeting place for agoraphobics or a non-partisan political party. Sometimes it's better not to try and make sense out of things and just go with it.

As in the case of the Noble Platypus.

My second birthday is coming up soon. I must be getting pretty old, I mean, I'm no septuagenarian cartoon dog, but I don't even remember my first birthday. I've seen the pictures, there were cupcakes, but that's all I know. I suppose as I begin to take on the years and come into a more mature time I should pause to reflect on what I've accomplished thus far. Let's take a look back, shall we?

FOOTAGE MISSING

Wait, what do you mean we don't have a clip? Oh well, it wasn't that long anyway. I guess too many pieces were left on the cutting room floor. However I can sum up the last two years in the below statistics. 


2920 Babbas
1467 Poopie Diapies
865   Drawers Emptied
623   Books Read
444   Goldfish Crackers Eaten
256   Fruit Snacks Lost in Couch Cushions
78     Outfits Ruined
23     Months
7       Days 'Till my Birthday
2       Bubbas Waiting for Cake
1       Country Awaiting a Benevolent Overlord


Today I updated my profile need another tissue!

Montesorta

So when I woke up today, Goomba was here and she doesn't put me back to bed when I wake up too early, because Goompa was raised on a farm and there's no such thing as too early. I snuggled in her room for awhile before heading downstairs for breakfast and a fun-filled morning. It was so early, that by the time everybody else came downstairs, I was done sitting in my high chair and it was time to set about my daily routine.

Lately I have found immense pleasure in taking inventory. Let it never be said that I take my possessions for granted. I've seen other baybee's houses and they don't seem to have as many toys as I do, but that may be just because they don't know how to properly take inventory as I do. Below are the steps of a proper inventory.

Inventory, and so can you!

1. Obtain something to write on, be it a crayon and pad, a Magna Doodle, an Etch A Sketch or pasta sauce and some white wall board.
2. Select categories with which to sort items before counting, such as Good for throwing, Good for hitting people with, Good for wrapping around neck, Good for carrying around like a purse or satchel and Cars.
3. Take out items in each category and count them. Pacing is a personal preference, but be mindful of the indirect relationship between speed and accuracy.

It is important to note that steps 1 and 2 are completely optional, as is the need to count.

Once the contents of all containers are on the floor in the widest area of the given room, your job is done. Now you know exactly how much stuff you have. The other day Dadda took me upstairs for a nap and forgot to give me my Babba. Not only that, but he had the nerve to tell me that a sippy cup filled with milk was the same thing. Well, you know how it is with a new skill, you need to practice it as often as possible to get it right. I quietly and quickly took inventory of my room and determined that Bubbas have a lot of clothes in their dresser and that none of their socks fit me. Not one single sock!

I am an affectionate little boy. When asked for a kiss I oblige by placing my face close to the intended recipient and allowing them to kiss me. When someone crouches low to my level and opens their arms wide for a hug, I run and tackle them or proceed to scale their frame until they buckle under my weight and I can wrestle them and empty their pockets. Now my embraces have come under criticism lately. That is why I have taken it upon myself to practice giving hugs. Last time Dadda took me on a walk, I hugged every short red metal hugging practice dummy we saw. These are weird harmless things on just about every street corner in our neighborhood.

Hugging Practice Dummy

Although I think my practice hugs went swimmingly, Dadda grimaced each time and thoroughly washed my hands and clothes when we got home. Also while we were on this walk, Dadda fussed at me for trying to experience nature. Often I like to stop and examine things closely. Dadda likes to make shadow puppets appear and make them eat things off of the ground. That's simply not fair, shadows have weak digestions and should only eat a low-fat high fiber shadow diet. I tried to eat an acorn instead and Dadda slapped it out of my hand. Jeez, if he wanted it so bad he should've found his own acorn.


Today I am maniacal, a handful!

Snobody can catch me!

Today I woke up, went to Mamma and Dadda's room, and had to wedge myself between them for a nice warm snuggle. Of course I had to share my dreams and ramble on for awhile before they grumbled at me and woke up to start the day. Now that I know there is something to miss early in the mornings, I have no interest in going back to sleep. From now on if it's 5:30 in the morning I'm getting up, and by "I", I mean everybody!

I brought Dadda my Playskool Silly Sounds Checkup kit because when I pressed the buttons on it all I could hear was a clicking sound. He took it into the kitchen, put new batteries in, and showed me how to use it. First, he got a teddy bear off of the book shelf, then he performed a full physical and handed it to me so I could try. 

I shook my head with disappointment and showed him how it's done. The first thing I did was ask if the bear had insurance. The bear had the nerve to think I was running a free clinic! Fortunately for him he had private insurance and after a co-pay and some paperwork I referred him to a specialist, after all, I'm a doctor not a veterinarian! Besides, I could tell that he was obese and had high blood-pressure and those were obviously preexisting conditions so. . .

Despite the cold weather I thought it would be a nice idea to head outdoors today. Of course Dadda was against the idea so I had to use the pet door several times, although each time Dadda eventually came out and got me. After being scolded and then warmed up I decided it was time for a snack. You gotta be careful with snax around the doggies because they will take it and no matter how much you fuss at them they won't give it back.

Sometimes I wish I was a dog. I wonder how much dog food one would have to eat in order to become a dog, because at the rate they're eating my food, I should have a couple of baby sisters by now!

Dadda put yellow and red stuff on his eggs today. Mustard and ketchup! Have you tried this stuff? I insisted every item on my tray recieve a generous portion of each susbtance in order to enhance my dining experience. After lunch, Dadda said I smelled like a hot dog. If I was a hot dog, could I go outside without getting in trouble? By the way, that wasn't hot dog he smelled.

Today I am accepting most forms of insurance friendly and helpful!

Josh's Hidden Picture Game!

Can you find:

1. Woody from Toy Story?

2. Capt. America?

3. A yellow tow truck?

4. A foal?

5. An alligator?

6. A calf?

7. Someone who is willing to clean this up?

8. An Easter Island Statue?

Thanks for playing!

Wait. There's a New year?

I woke up this morning and let myself out of my crib, went to Mamma and Dadda's room, grabbed my morning bottle and a book about furry monsters and returned to bed to read. After a quick morning nap, and a poop, I was ready to start the day. Yep, my crib is a cage no more. To paraphrase the great poet Mayo Annaise (sp?) I know why the caged baby sings. He doesn't know how to get out of his crib yet!

There is a lock on the door to my room for when I'm allowed to get out of my crib but I can't leave my room for "safety reasons." That's fine, I can entertain myself, enclosure or not. You see, the greatest of my talents, besides engineering and mischief manufacture, is organization. Although science has debunked the whole left brain right brain myth, I still contend that I left my brain in one of my toy drawers once. That is why it is imperative that one stay organized!

Mamma has made pretty pictures to go on the front of all of the drawers in order to attempt some arbitrary system of organization.

 

Exhibit Eh?

I, however, have a different way of organizing things. I usually empty one entire drawer piece by piece and line up the items in the order that I wish to play with or destroy them. I tried to get Dadda to take a picture of this so you could see it, but he was either snoring on the couch or playing on the computer, so you'll have to settle for this piece of modern art.

Can you find the monkey?

 It is entitled, "The Burden of Ego", which was a much better title than my first choice, "Life: The Unsolvable Puzzle". 


Well routine is once again in place here at home. I am enjoying more freedom, but things are still where and when I expect them. However, I am told this is a new year. That's a bit wasteful, don't you think? What was wrong with the old one? If it was up to me we wouldn't be so wasteful with time. I mean I hear quite often how this and that are a waste of time. Of course when people are just throwing out perfectly good years and bringing in new ones willy-nilly, it's no wonder. So I went to bed as usual and I was forced into this new year against my will. I heard many grumbles the night before saying good riddance to the previous year, but I kind liked it. I did most of my best stuff in 2010.


So I will eat a piece of toast to the new year. Here's to 2011, the year of cinnamon raisin. . .and butter. . .slightly burnt on the edges. Actually I don't even want this, where's the dog?


Today I am nostalgic joyful!