Holiday cookies

Yesterday I asked mom if we could make some holiday cookies shaped like candy canes, trees and stars. I thought it would be a great activity for just mom and her boy, but it wasn't long before sister and her friend jumped in and started 'helping'. Too many little hands in the cookie dough. It was all I could do to maintain control of the roller.

In the end, there were a ton of cookies. I showed dad how to apply the frosting, but I didn't trust him to do it himself. He's kinda messy when it comes to stuff like that.

I love cookies. I like to lick all the frosting off first and then stuff the entire naked cookie in my little mouth. Mom gets a big kick out of it. Oh, the things I do for my fans.

Need a new ride

I was out cruising the neighborhood a few days ago and my ride broke down. I had to push it all the way back to the garage.

Anyway, I think I overheard mom and dad talking about getting me some new wheels. I just hope I get it's soon; pushing this heap around is bad for my image.

More pudding please!

I have a reputation around the house of being pretty finicky when it comes to eating. But I really, really like pudding.

My favorite game

Being a toddler I am for the most part easily amused. Sometimes my enthusiasm isn't obvious due to my very effective and stoic poker-face. I get a kick out of people trying their best to get a reaction out of me - only to receive my blank stare in response.
But if there is one person that can get me excited it's my dad. He just does the coolest things.
One day I saw him lying on the ground throwing a ball up toward the ceiling. It soon became clear to me that this is the greatest game ever. Now I love to get my ball and tell dad to lie down so I can lie on his chest like in this picture mom took of us. He throws the ball up high and when it bounces off the ceiling I try to catch it. It's quite a thrill and a challenge because I have to compete with dad's ape-like arms and sister's constant interference. But I'm always up for a challenge. And this game always makes me laugh. That's why they call me G.

Zoom Zoom!

Every once in a while I hear my dad talk about this little ride-on motorcycle he had when he was a kid. He must have really loved riding on it, because he is always telling mom that he would like to find one like it for me.
Well, I hope it has a motor and electric start. And I hope they find it soon.

Watch out ladies . . . this this cool cat is ready to ride.

Sunday Morning Waffles

Today is Sunday and that means I can count on at least one thing: WAFFLES!

Yes, there are few things better than this time of the day. Freshly waken from a nice slumber (last night was an exception, however), a fresh diaper, a full cup of moo juice and a nice warm waffle with savory maple syrup. Yummy!

Weekends are my favorite because dad gets to eat breakfast with us. Mom slept in today because I was a bit on the naughty (restless) side for a few hours in the early morning. I thought mom would be pleased to spend a few uninterrupted minutes with her soon-to-be middle child, but apparently I was mistaken. Be warned - she'll probably try to get sympathy by grosely exaggerating the story saying I was up for hours.

Anyway, back to the waffles. Don't get me wrong, it's a pretty good meal; but it could be better if I were priviledged with the same choices that Hannah gets: milk or juice; maple or raspberry syrup, that chair or this chair. I guess some people mistake my quest for a simple life to mean that I want the basics on everything: milk, maple, the blue bib and always the same chair. I can only hope that when junior is born I will move up a notch on the ol' totem pole. Until then, I'll just sit back and enjoy the musings of a beautiful Sunday morning. 

What the Hall...oween?

So, um . . . apparently there's this day that comes around once a year that gives parents legal permission to blatantly make their kids look like fools. I think Halloween is what they called it. Don't get me wrong, in some aspects this day is a kid's dream come true - you know, with all the candy and such that is for the most part off limits during the rest of the year. But what does dressing up in silly outfits have to do with nice people giving a kid candy?

Well, as you can see, I had the unfortunate fate of being a mouse this year. I'm pretty sure that mom and dad like me more than Hannah, but I just don't get why she got to wear something that makes her look all growed up while they stuck me in this giant ball of fur. And did you notice they even gave me a stick of string cheese to complete the look? As if that would authenticate the rediculous get-up. Clever dad. Real clever.

I may sound bitter about the whole idea, but it really wasn't that bad. I mean, I made out like a bandit as far as the sweets go - which, by the way, I haven't seen much of since they were collected. Dad always seems to be munching on something, though. Hmm. And the actual candy collection process was intriguing: stand at a stranger's doorstep and knock while yelling 'Trick or Treat', or in my case, 'tugh, tugh'. Although, there was that one incident involving a cat that I'm still trying to get over. That was one brave kitten and I about crapped my mouse suit. I thought it was really nice of dad to laugh as the cat chased me around the porch. Thanks dad! Why don't you dress up as a friggin' mouse next time and we'll see how funny it is then.

Anyway, everyone thought I was cute, so I guess that's all that really matters. I can't wait to see what mom puts me in next year. I'm thinking an armadillo or something. 

It's me . . . G!

Hi. I'm G. Well, my real name is Garrett (I think), but everyone that knows me calls me G. I guess it's easier to remember or something. My sister, Hannah, sometimes calls me G-G. I can't tell if she has a bit of a stutter or if she thinks just one 'G' won't sufficiently get my attention. Fortunately I'm pretty easy going - I think 'mellow' is the word mom uses - so I don't really care what they call me.

Yes, my life is about as simple and carefree as any 18-month old can expect (I eat, sleep, play and poop), but I've tried to make ensure it is as uncomplicated as possible. One way I've accomplished this is to limit my vocabulary to just one word and make everyone guess what I'm trying to say. And that one word is . . . drumroll please . . . . . 'ugh!'. Yep - that's it. When I first uttered the word mom and dad thought it was cute. And why change a cute thing, right? With so much competition for cutability from my sister (she's 15 months older than me), I knew I had to come up with some good material. Surprisingly, the cuteness of the 'ugh' never wore off, so I continue to use it.

At first I thougth it would be fun to confuse mom, dad and grandmas by using ugh when I wanted a drink, a snack, a fresh diaper, or to draw attention to any other thing in my world. And it was for a while. Aparently mom and dad are getting smarter, though, and are actually able to interpret and understant my grunt. This has really made my life good. I'm not bogged down by learning all those new funny sounding words. I mean, what's the point? Don't get me wrong - I know at some point the novelty and cuteness will wear off and I'll be forced to learn speak real English like everyone else, but for now I'm holding off to see if Spanish will become the national language.

Anyway, this blog is about me, my life and the people I live with and love. The blog name 'gsayugh' is what my sister tells everyone. Usually it's, "G say 'ugh' in Shell's car." So by way of introduction, here are my coinhabitants:

Hannah: she's my older sister. She's trouble, but I love her dearly and we're best friends. I think she's a bit more than mom and dad can handle sometimes because they are always mumbling something about the terrible two's and how she is verifying the myth. I like to get her in trouble by doing things I know I'm not supposed to because she is quick to follow once she realizes it is 'undesireable behavior.' Fun, huh?

Mom: Well, of course I wouldn't be here without her. I owe everything to her. She gets a bit stressed sometimes, but I know she loves me more than she could ever say. She gives the best hugs and I love waking up knowing that she is right there for me. She's the best. Dad did good recruiting her.

Dad: This guy is a stud. He has got to be the most fun dad in the world. He loves to play with me; and when I say 'play' I mean throw me around like a rag doll. Mom thinks his antics are scary and will cause long-term brain damage. My response: Ugh! People say I looked like my dad when I was born. Why are people mean like that?

Baby brother: this dude doesn't have a name yet because he is still baking. Mom said he will come to live with us in a few months. I have a bad feeling about it all. Competition for attention is going to get a lot fiercer here soon. I'm excited to be the big brother, though. And I know we are going to be the bestest of friends. At least I can play with him instead of the mean neighbor girl.

Of course, I have grandmas and grandpas and lots of fun aunts, uncles and cousins, too. I'll talk abou them at times in future posts. Be sure to add this blog to your list of RSS feeds, cause there will be some good toddler insights. Over and out pepes. I mean, 'ugh'!