Bath time

My little guy has just turned two.  I have no idea where the past two years have gone.  I had a funny moment the other day that gave me a flash back to when Pookie was little.  Pookie has his bath time in the kitchen sink.  He fits and my back and knees don't hurt after.  It works for now.  Pookie loves his bath time.  I blow bubbles and he tries to eat them.  I think that child would eat just about anything.  He has a lot of fun splashing around and getting Mama wet.  As I was finishing up cleaning Pookie off, I thought about his first bath at home. 

The winter Pookie was born, it was cold and we had a LOT of snow.  Like, so much snow, I didn't see Rob for about three months because he was either out plowing or he was sleeping.  My mom came out for a visit right after we got home from the hospital to help us out.  We had been home for a day or two, and we decided to give Pookie a bath.  I got everything ready.  I turned up the heat in the house, I made sure that we had enough towels and that the water was at a nice warm temperature.  Because Pookie still had the umbilical cord stump attached, he needed to have a sponge bath.  I got everything set up on the changing table and my mom and I got to work on bathing Pookie.  About half way through, I looked at Pookie's face and his lips were blue.  Poor thing was cold!  I hadn't had him home for even a week, and I managed to turn my son blue.  Talk about Mom-of-the-Year Award!  We quickly finished his bath and got him all wrapped up like a burrito.  We got him all toasty warm and pink again in no time. 

Flash forward two years and now he is running around the house almost naked before his bath.  Pookie radiates heat, between Pookie and Rob, I have two personal space heaters.  It is astounding how much one little person can change in the span of two years. 

Gift overload

Pookie has recently turned 2.  I can not believe that my baby is 2 years old.  My mom keeps reminding me to wait until Pookie graduates from high school.  If I feel like time has flown by now, it is much worse then.  With Christmas and then Pookie's birthday, Pookie has received a LOT of gifts.  We are starting to run out of room to put things.  Talk about a first world issue.  My child has received too many gifts.  Do I sound ungrateful or what?  There are so many people that love Pookie and want the best for him and have a tendency to buy too much for him.  Really, that's not such a bad thing.  However, we only have so much space. 

It was very funny watching Pookie opening up his gifts.  At Christmas he would peel off one strip of wrapping paper at a time and throw that piece of paper away before tearing off another piece.  I think Pookie was more interested in putting things in the garbage than actually opening his gifts.  Once an item had been opened, Pookie would then want to play with that new item.  Looking back, I should have let him open one gift a day as apposed to opening everything at once.  By the time we got to my in-law's house, Pookie was starting to be all done with opening gifts.  Of course a pile awaited Pookie.  By the time everything was opened, Pookie was fried. 

We ended up celebrating Little Christmas with my side of the family.  Pookie decided to take stuff randomly out of bags and play with that item for a while before moving onto something else.  It ended up working really well.  So when his birthday rolled around, I wasn't too surprised that Pookie randomly started pulling stuff out of bags.  He did a little at a time, and he had opened everything by the end of the party.  Thank goodness that Pookie got a lot of clothing.  I think he officially has more pants than Rob and I combined. 

At some point I have to go through all of Pookie's toys and sort through things.  Some things I will save for later, some things will be put in storage for the next munchkin and some things are going to need to find a new home.  I think I am going to need some more storage containers to help sort Pookie's toys so he knows what he actually has. 

Pookie the goat

Tasty book

My child eats everything.  Books, wooden spoons, blankets, socks, his crib... You get the picture.  Poor kid is getting all four of his two year molars in.  They have been creating quite a bit of havoc.  Who would have thought that these little teeth would cause such a ruckus?  Between a lack of naps and interesting wake up calls in the middle of the night, I can not wait for these horrible teeth to arrive.  Maybe then, I can put Pookie to bed and not come back to holes chewed through his blanket.  Or better yet, his shirt.

Shirt after Pookie's nap.

I can deal with the eaten books and random pieces of cardboard, but the chewed clothing needs to stop.  We were driving along the other day and I heard the familiar sound of material being ripped.  He was chewing on his coat.  Chewing isn't the right word.  I can understand chewing.  Pookie, however, grabs a chunk of material between his teeth and pulls.  It's like he is having a tug of war between himself and his teeth.  Pookie teeth make a horrible clacking noise once the material is ripped from them.  I suppose this may be a smidge better than Pookie grinding his teeth.  Not by much, just a little smidge.  At least I can tell him to stop when we are driving in the car.  When I put him down for a nap we have a couple of issues going on.  One, he doesn't sleep, and two, he chews holes in his cloths when left unattended.

Wooden fork

Apparently, I shouldn't be too surprised by this behavior.  My mother remembers chewing on her crib as well as other wooden surfaces when she was little.  She liked the feel of her teeth sinking into the wood.  It makes me feel a whole lot better knowing that she did manage to outgrow that phase.  Although, in college I lived across the hall from a guy that chewed on his shirt.  Hopefully Pookie will outgrow this sooner rather than later.  I thank my lucky stars that Pookie is not an actual goat, otherwise I think my entire house would be completely chewed.