Made me laugh

Turner is 27 months old. Still nursing - a lot. More than I'd like for him to be, but I'm not really ready to forcefully wean, and I'm lazy, so we're still going. He's still two months younger than Guthrie was when I weaned him. And I'd like to try child-led weaning, although I'm not sure what my limit is. I guess we'll see.

He just climbed up on my lap to nurse, and who knows why, but he pulled off, looked at the nursies, and said, "Icky. Sick." I told him the nursies were yummy and good and wouldn't make him sick, and then he looked at me, pointed to the nursie, and said, "Compost."

I totally cracked up, and now he keeps saying it.

Apparently, I need to compost the icky nursies. *sigh*

For all those people who think babies *MUST* be weaned by one year, or whatever other abritrary age, and are definitely too old to nurse when they are old enough to ask for it, they just don't know the fun they are missing with a baby who is able to tel you how much he loves his nursies, or, even, that they should go in the compost.

I'd erase all of Turner's toys

We've been reading Shel Silverstein's Where the Sidewalk Ends, and Guthrie loved the poem about the child who uses his magic eraser to erase someone.

Just now, he came up to us in the kitchen, and said, "If my pencil that I bought had a magic eraser, I would use it to erase all of Turner's toys. Then he wouldn't have ANY toys to play with, and he would leave me alone."

I think the logic is faulty, but the sentiment is right.

Thank goodness there is no magic eraser, or brothers everywhere would instead erase each other.

"Retrospective Courage"

Eric was quoted today in the Baltimore Sun, speaking about Scott McClellan's new book. (They still have him listed as teaching at CMSU, which isn't even CMSU anymore, but whatever. Should be the University of Texas, Pan-American.) My new favorite Eric quote is where he says Scott McClellan will be "remembered as having, let's say, retrospective courage."

Well said, my dear.

"If Turner cries again, I will put a bandage over his mouth."

Said by Guthrie, of course.

It's not quite as bad as it sounds. Turner has been a rather, well, LOUD child lately, screaming, whining, you know the rest. It was worse than normal - he was crying about everything, and none of us could figure out why - and Guthrie had given him a band-aid earlier when he fell and hit his forehead. So, I guess Guthrie figured a band-aid over the mouth would stop the crying.

Thankfully, he didn't try it. But Eric and I couldn't stop laughing. I'm still laughing about it.

The Mouths of Babes

Great recent quotes from Guthrie:

At the post office the other day, after we'd been there roughly an hour or so, and everyone's patience (the line was huge) was worn thin, and we were quite possibly the only white people there, he looked at Eric and announced, loudly, "You are a Gringo!" Um, yes, Guthrie, you are correct. Thankfully, the reaction from customers and employees was loud laughter.

When things at home start to get really crazy, and I feel like my brain cells are disappearing too quickly, I jokingly threaten Eric that I am going to get a job. I said this the other day, and Guthrie protested, "Don't get a JOB! You are my teacher!" Melted my heart.

And on the phone with my mother today, when he asked what she was doing and she said she was watching TV, he told her she needed to give her TV to someone else (we recently gave our TV, that had been sitting unplugged in our garage for over a year, to some friends), because "it will make you fat again." (Not that my mother is fat, but she just announced that she had lost 7 pounds.)

I have no great quotes from Turner. He still doesn't talk much. Mostly he points to pictures of animals, plays with toy farm animals, and repeats "oof oof oof" over and over again. Because you know, cows, pigs, dogs, cats, elephants, birds, even dolphins all say "oof oof."