A-Pickah-Bah!
All about:
milestones,
new beds,
Woog and Eli
"A-pickah-pickah-bah-pickah-bah-pickah-bah!"
Eli has a new catchphrase, which could mean something, nothing...or everything. He uses it now, as he circles and circles his new sleeping domain.
"Do you mean 'peek-a-boo', Pet?" We ask him.
He merely flashes a toothy triangular grin, "A-pickah-bah!"
Yes, time does fly ever so fast. Just yesterday the baby was struggling to pull himself up the bars of his crib. Now, he's moved himself into a new bed. The milestones are zooming past faster and faster, my blurry eyes and pounding heart can barely keep up.
Ok, so the effort at intelligible speech is taking a little bit longer to catch up, but still...
In an effort to get in some quality time with his sleep-deprived wife, Atch "confiscated" Woog's little boy fold-out and assigned it to Eli. All things considered equal (or more likely to prevent catastrophic sibling envy), he assembled his old wooden single bed for our older son.
The boys took to their new beds like...like...well, like little boys to new toys. It took us quite a bit of convincing before we could get them to come down for lunch.
At the risk of sounding like a broken wind-up toy: where have my babies gone?
Sometime soon, in a future which looms too close for my own comfort, these boys will be grown men sleeping in big beds with their own wives....er, partners (whichever the case may be). And their dear mom will be a little old lady with silver hair, grinning toothlessly up at her progeny. "A-pickah-bah," she will drool.
"Do you mean 'peek-a-boo', Mom?" They might ask indulgently.
"A-pickah-bah!"
Indeed.
Eli has a new catchphrase, which could mean something, nothing...or everything. He uses it now, as he circles and circles his new sleeping domain.
"Do you mean 'peek-a-boo', Pet?" We ask him.
He merely flashes a toothy triangular grin, "A-pickah-bah!"
Yes, time does fly ever so fast. Just yesterday the baby was struggling to pull himself up the bars of his crib. Now, he's moved himself into a new bed. The milestones are zooming past faster and faster, my blurry eyes and pounding heart can barely keep up.
Ok, so the effort at intelligible speech is taking a little bit longer to catch up, but still...
In an effort to get in some quality time with his sleep-deprived wife, Atch "confiscated" Woog's little boy fold-out and assigned it to Eli. All things considered equal (or more likely to prevent catastrophic sibling envy), he assembled his old wooden single bed for our older son.
The boys took to their new beds like...like...well, like little boys to new toys. It took us quite a bit of convincing before we could get them to come down for lunch.
At the risk of sounding like a broken wind-up toy: where have my babies gone?
Sometime soon, in a future which looms too close for my own comfort, these boys will be grown men sleeping in big beds with their own wives....er, partners (whichever the case may be). And their dear mom will be a little old lady with silver hair, grinning toothlessly up at her progeny. "A-pickah-bah," she will drool.
"Do you mean 'peek-a-boo', Mom?" They might ask indulgently.
"A-pickah-bah!"
Indeed.
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