Fart. Screech. Fling. Y. dinner. Pizza box, Where'd it go? Fling. 4. Yeah-yeah-yeah! Want one - sink, no. Snake, yes.Really, as you can see, it's just a list of reminders for me. This is usually how I thing of my blog posts before I write them out, but this time I was afraid if I didn't write it out I'd lose it. I thought it funny when I opened it up again, so thought I'd share.
Thing is, Mozart is still on those crazy meds, and while this kid has personality on any old day, it is a bit amped up when he is so wired. I had a busy day yesterday and found myself on the daycare side of town with errands still to do on the other side of town, but not enough time before I had to collect him, so I went to get him early and take him along shopping with me. Perhaps I should have skipped it considering his state of being, but I was determined. We went to a couple of stored and ended with Wilson's. They still have the old style strollers you see in department stores, but they really are from the 50's or 60's and the seat belts have long since lost buckles, etc. After a trip up to the children's section, and Mozart standing in the thing several times, I used what was left of the seat belt to just tie him in. So, so much safer after that!
The rest of the trip, mostly in the kitchen department, was spent trying to keep my cool and alternately hush him and apologize to other shoppers while he perfected his screech-monkey impression. And then he passed gas. Rather loudly. We were the only people in that corner at the moment, so I thought we got a pass. But, oh, no. The next several minutes were spent announcing, QUITE loudly, "FART!" With glee.
On arrival home, he was running around without direction and just kind of bouncing off people and objects. I decided it would be a good idea to go to the Y and let him run off his energy. I voiced my idea and it was met with pure joy! Course, had to have dinner first, which was a feat, but we managed to get about 4-5 bites in him. I think there is an appetite suppressant in that stuff, and then of course, he flung the dinner to the floor. Afterwards, while I was cleaning up, he picked a frozen pizza box from the recycling. Very proud of himself, he announces, "Pizza!" Then folds the box and says, "Where'd it go?!" And continued to do this while we laughed at and with him.
Once at the Y we went to the gym. They've got it all set up so the Littles can run and tumble and, as long as they don't get trampled by an older kid, they probably won't hurt themselves. This place is wonderful. I wish it was an everyday thing, but it's only Fridays and Saturdays. And only for an hour. So for the next hour he ran from slide to trampoline to huge foam wedges, blocks and obstacles screaming, "Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah!!!" And then every once in awhile, whenever counting might be appropriate, "FOUR!" That's his favorite number, apparently.
On the way home, he was yammering on about who knows what in the back seat and then said, "I want one!" We asked him what he wanted. And the response was something to the effect of, "snnk", and I had no idea what that could mean. Sounded like sink. He said no. No luck with asking him to say it again. I asked him was it a snake. "Yes!" Oh, Boy.
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