Erik's Epics

Erik came home from school yesterday with his first finger painting. When I get a change to take a picture of it and figure out how to post it, I will.

I think he was proud of his work. The teacher handed me the picture, and he immediately started jabbering and rubbing his fingers on the painted part of the picture. I think he was showing me how he painted it, or perhaps he was telling me what a mystery it was that you put your fingers in this wet stuff and it makes pretty colors on your paper.

He is really starting to test me more. Last Sunday night, Todd was with some friends. Erik and I were playing outside blowing bubbles and coloring with sidewalk chalk. The rule for playing outside is that if he wants to go in the street, he must hold my hand. This rule has been in effect since the weather became nice enough to play outside. He has always complied without any problems. If he wants to go in the street (he usually wants to do this because he wants to go play at Peyton's house), he walks to the end of the driveway, looks back and me, and holds his hand out. He waits there for me. I take his hand, and off we go. Sunday, however, he would go to the end of the driveway, look back and me, and take off running into the street. It took a number of tries, but he learned that breaking that rule brings consequences.

He had a couple other firsts on Sunday (I think he was waiting for Todd to be gone). While I was cooking, he crawled onto a kitchen chair and onto the table. I glanced over to see him sitting there about to attack a bowl of cherry tomatoes. He also crawled through the neighbors dog door for the first time, and he ate one of those popcicles that come in the plastic tubing for the first time.

It amazes Jessica (Peyton's mom) and I how much the boys beg to go outside, but when they get to the other one's house they beg to go in their friend's house (new and different toys, I guess). They both also fight over toys that they won't play with when the other is not around. Toddlerhood!

Erik is saying more words, now. He has taken to saying "cracker" at the top of his lungs. He says: Grandpa, Ma (which I may have noted before meant milk or more - it now also means mine). He says goat. He moos a lot. He knows what a cow, duck, horse, dog, and cat say. He knows rabbits hop. He knows a car/truck's noise. He says pretzel (sounds like zel). He sometimes says cup.

He has finally started to like playing in the sprinkler. He won't swim in the pool at Sean and Lori's because it is too cold; however, it is just as well with him because there are rocks to play with.

At Brynn's birthday party he got to sit at the table with Indie, Brynn, Blayne, and Sydney for cake and ice cream. He thought he was such big stuff. I should have let him sit over there for lunch too, but I didn't think about it. Aunt Kristin brought him the cake and ice cream; she's a favorite person now. He loved the cookies Aunt Lori sent home as a party favor. All in all, Erik had a great time, and he fell asleep in the car before we made it to the end of the street.

Erik was a little scarred by my jury duty, but it was not by the fact that he went to school 5 days instead of 3 or because I was home late a couple of nights. He was scarred because for the whole work week he got to ride in Daddy's truck, and now is stuck riding in mom's car again. When we go to get in the car, we walks away from the car, holds his hands up to the truck and starts fussing. When he realizes he is not going to ride in the truck, he breaks down and cries. It's tragic.

As I mentioned before, Erik loves to blow bubbles. He tickles me so much when he tries. I bought him one of those spill resistant bubble cups. He dips his wand in, pulls it out, and makes an attempt to blow. The funny thing is, he often gets confused and blows while the wand in still in the cup. He also forgets to take his paci out before he blows. Needless to say, he never produces bubbles. However, he blows for the sheer joy of blowing. And, if you blow bubbles, too, he likes to try and catch them.

I have decided that Erik things Elmo only says "achoo." Since the advent of the book Elmo Says Achoo Erik says Achoo every time he says Elmo. They told me at Erik's school yesterday, that Erik refused to get up from story time until they read Elmo Says Achoo. It didn't matter how many other books they read, he wanted Achoo.

Erik's meat strike appears to be ending. He'll eat chicken again, and he is eating ground beef when it is mixed in things like spaghetti.

At Erik's birthday party, Aunt Kristin and Indie gave Erik a Crayola tub spout cover. You put colored disks in the cover, and the disks color your bath water. The spout cover is an octopus named Ollie. Erik has been fine will Ollie for some time now, and he still enjoys put his hand under the tentacles as water runs out. However, if Ollie ever falls off or gets bubbles on him, Erik freaks out. Even if Ollie falls and you put him back, bath time is done. I think it's funny that bath time is all fun and games until Ollie falls, but such is life.

Erik has gotten very dancey. He dances any time music comes on. I watched the season finally of So You Think You Can Dance. He saw the dancers right before bedtime, and he danced too.

Let's see, other miscellaneous Erik facts:
He often cheers for you when you read him a book and you finish the book.
He likes Cinnamon Toast Crunch (and seems to like any kind of cinnamon).
When we go to Mexican restaurants, he makes us dip his chip in the salsa (or pretend to). I think he thinks its catsup.
He loves catsup.
He loves to dip foods in catsup (and ranch makes a decent substitute).
He LOVES pretzels.
He doesn't mind riding in the car, but he really doesn't like getting stuck sitting at a light or in traffic.
He thinks it is great if a semi drives by your car.
He likes to ride the neighbor's tricycle (he said bicycle a couple of times one day but not again).
He likes motorcycles.
He loves Peyton's dogs - especially the little one (Maggie). Erik has a book called God Made Puppies. Erik thinks 2 of the dogs in the book are the neighbor's dogs. He pets the dogs in the book.
He pats you when he gives you a hug.
He sometimes gives me kisses.
He blows kisses and says "bye" with a southern accent when you leave the house.
He prefers to were Crocks over tennis shoes.

He is a sweet, funny, wonderful little boy. We love him very much.