Gabe: (pause) Except for the parrots!!
Tim: (startled) Ah - well, yes, I guess you're probably right about the parrots.
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Gabe FINALLY knows his ABC song and can count a good ways. He's only done those things patchily up to this point.
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Gabe: (mid-chew while gazing out the window in the dining room. Declared brightly.) "Super-Gabe will take care of that later!" (goes back to eating as if nothing had happened)
Mommy: (looking from the outdoors to Gabe, and really, really, really, struggling with a smile) "What will Super Gabe take care of?"
Gabe: "Oh! That bag that is blowing in the wind! (Mommy looks and indeed sees a plastic bag gusting along the yard.) Super-Gabe will go get that bag later!" (resumes his busy chewing.)
LOL.
Super Hero has been the game of choice lately (when Gabe is not "shooting" animals with his "gun"). I think it's a take-off of the Super Reader show on PBS. Mainly, it involve scrounging clothes off of one's shelf, out of one's drawer, or off of Mommy's shelf (sigh), placing them on one's head to form a sort of hat/swirly cape, and tearing down the hall with giggling younger brother hot on one's heels. It's pretty funny, actually, aside from the vastly annoying task of gathering loose clothes from hither and yon and restoring them yet again to their original places.
Today he said, "Mommy, I'm a he-whoa."
"A hero?" I asked.
"Yes, I'm a he-whoa. And if anybody tries to, tries to push a button on the world, I will smack my heart, and it will put my clothes on." :) :) :)
Here are the two resident Super Heroes, hard at work.
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The other day I was working in the kitchen and Gabe wandered out requesting juice. I informed him that he had to wait, because I was busy. He went and quietly deposited himself in the baby's purple Bumpo seat and sat there quietly. After a bit, I fixed his juice and took it to him. He accepted it with a quivering lip. My child can be a mite melodramatic, I have noticed. So, I tucked my smile inside, and asked him twice what was wrong. Finally he said, quite pitifully and with lip aquiver, "It's...it's...it's just that nothing in my life makes me sad!!!"
"Do you mean that everything in your life makes you sad?" I asked.
Nod. Pitiful sniff. "Everything in my life makes me sad!"
The poor, poor child. When chocolate doesn't come on demand, Mom makes you stop jumping off of the couch, and the juice is delayed...there's not much farther down to go. Apparently.
:)
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People often comment how alert and responsive Zion is. I hear more that he looks like Gabe right now than that he looks like Tim, which is what people really said at first.
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Israel calls me "Mom-Mom" or "Mom-Ma-Mom". I took him for what I thought was a speech evaluation but turned out only to be a hearing evaluation (sigh) which showed he had no hearing difficulties. He seems to have hit one of those verbal peaks again these past two weeks, where he is saying more.
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