Monday, November 12, 2012

Blake says...

Blake says:
"I have been home nearly a year and am really starting to get a grasp of this 'family' thing.  I don't like anyone but my mommy or daddy to feed me, now.  If anyone else tries I hide my spoon! it fits great behind my back, sticks to my shirt.  Speaking of spoons, I feed myself pretty much all of the time!  I love spooning my yogurt and oatmeal to my mouth, in the mornings.  And whatever I can't get with my spoon I rub all over my face with my hands, hoping I hit my mouth!  If not, it's always fun to rub in my hair!  And the stuff I don't like...the green stuff, I throw at crazy-hair girl.  Seriously, you should see her mane in the mornings...she looks like a screechy little lion!  We face each other in our high chairs so we usually catch up on the morning news.  She yells at me and shrieks...I growl back.  We like to get louder and louder, swinging our hands, and banging our trays with our spoons and bowls...always gets a reaction from mommy who is usually trying to tell Leah why it is important to brush her teeth and comb her hair for school...seems to occur every morning!  Who knows?  Mom usually comes at me with that stupid wet rag to wipe me off and peel the oatmeal and spoon from my back, before my day begins.  I LOVE playtime.  I usually rip the toy box lid off and start throwing toys everywhere.  I pretend to be busy, until crazy, chubby girl finds the toys she wants to play with...then I intervene.  IF she's watching cartoons, I'll go sit right next to her, enough to be touching and I slowly lift my foot up and rest it on her leg.  Then I sit and wait for it....wait for it...."AHHHHHH!" She shoves me over.....hehehehe, just the reaction I was hoping for.  I giggle in my PeeWee Herman belly laugh, before I sit up and try it again..hoping for an even bigger reaction.  This time I lean over on her AND slide my foot over, just enough to cover both of her legs.  And wait for it, wait for it....'BOBBBBBEEEEEEYYYY!?  NO! NO!"  Hehehehehehe.  One last time.  This is usually the time I get the best reaction...This time I lean over on her, slide my foot over on her legs, and then snatch her baby doll from her hands--at this time, I usually don't have to wait for a reaction.  First she screams..."AHHHHHH!? Then she starts pushing me around, slaps me on the head a few times, even goes so far to push me off the couch, sometimes jumps on top of me, and has even bit me a few times...then she cries. And sometimes if it hurts bad enough, I cry too.  Then we go our separate ways.  Mission accomplished for the morning.

Mom usually makes me sit down at the table and do some activity she calls "preschool."  I slide beads on shoelaces, hammer pegs into a sponge board, count and stack blocks, and then she gets out the activity I hate the worst.  Playdough.  Yuck, yuck, yuck.  If I can't eat it, I don't want to touch it.  And it doesn't taste good, trust me.  When is she going to get that figured out?  Preschool is usually over shortly after that, because I am done!  No playdough.  No. No.

Then after that I'm ready for round 2 with crazy girl.  She loves her new pink shopping cart and her curly-haired baby Cabbage Patch doll, therefore so do I.  I will wait until she takes her hands off of it for a minute, then swoop in, steal it and take off running.  Nothing more fun than a game of chase.  Unless I forget I'm wearing footie pajamas and they do not do well at top speeds on the tile floor.  She usually catches me if I fall.  And game is over.  But the days I'm feeling good, we can do 25 circles around the kitchen island before one of us poops out or mom trips on us and gets mad...then game over.  Dad isn't too fond of me pushing a pink shopping cart around, so we have to play this game inside.  But it is fun while it lasts.

The hour before bed is a great time as well.  We usually wrestle with daddy.  And nothing gets me more wound up than wrestling and pillow fights.  And then I can't stop.  I use my low base of stance to wrap my arms and legs around anyone who gets near me, in hopes of bringing them to the floor.  As soon as they hit the floor, I pounce!  Growling, waving my arms, and giggling.
I usually stop when mom and dad say "snack" or when everyone is crying.  I tell you those two girls I live with just don't know how to fight.  They get mad WAY to easy.  Which makes it more fun for me, the louder the reaction, the more I go after them.

See for yourself...

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