Thirtysomething

He wasn't drinking much, and barely eating at all, so I was letting him eat whatever he wanted, wherever he wanted. Crackers for breakfast? Sure. How about eating them on the couch? Sure, no problem. Oh and can I watch a lot of TV? Of course, my little sick puppy. The problem was, not surprisingly, that once he started to feel better he still wanted to do nothing but eat dinner on the couch and watch TV. So that took some...readjusting.

One lingering symptom, however, is his love of TV. Specifically, "Little Einsteins" and "Mickey's Clubhouse". As much as I want to punch The Disney Channel in the face, it is funny to see Rolo's reactions to the shows. He lifts his arms in the air and shouts "Blast off!" when Rocket from "Little Einstein" well, blasts off. And he calls Mickey Mouse "O'Tootle", which is some gadget on that show. So, you know there is a certain level of cuteness in him mimicking these shows and I have to remind myself that really, these shows are the beginning of the brainwashing movement. Now that he's better I limit him to one show a day, despite how many times he yells "O'Tootles!" and does the sign for "more".

Let's see, what else? We had our first snowfall that actually resulted accumulation and I was able to take Rolo out in that. He was pretty floored by the whole thing.

Rolo's language has picked up, although Ron and I may be the only ones who understand most of it. Although, the other day, I brought Rolo to the allergist and we were walking the hall, when Rolo started flirting with the women at the nurses' station. Typical. Anyway, there was this weird Fourth of July-looking decoration with red, silver and blue stars and streamers hanging from the ceiling. I pointed to it and asked (what I thought was just rhetorically), "What is that?" and Rolo answered, clear as day, "Stars". The nurse looked a little surprised and said "Wow, he speaks very well." "Yes, he does" I responded, even though it was the first time he's really correctly pronounced anything. I've been working on "I love you" with him, but he doesn't really get sentences. He'll say "I luff" but for some reason he can't seem to tack "you" on the end. He usually needs prompts to really say words; I have to actually say "Say (whatever word I want him to say" and then he'll try to repeat it.

Rolo still loves reading books and if you ask him, he can correctly point to the following items in just about any book: ducks, balloons, stars, the moon, llamas, monkeys, rhinos, sheep (BAA!), loins, babies, dogs, cats, fire, chair, boy, bananas, apples and bees. He seems to have a pretty good memory these days and for the most part we only have to tell him what something is once before he can point it out in book over and over again.

He's also making somewhat more complicated connections. The other day, he pointed to a boat in a book, and looked at me. I knew he didn't know how to say boat, but before I could actually say that word, he started singing "Row, row, row." The night before I had been singing "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" while giving him a bath and the only part Rolo could get out was "Row, Row, Row". So boats now, are temporarily renamed "row, row, row."

We switched Rolo to that other preschool this week, but that's a post for another day. So far it's going well, and I've already noticed his language has picked up. Whether that's a result of the new school or just a timing thing, I don't know.

Months ago, Rolo started humming. And the tune sounded like Barney's "I love you, you love me, we're a happy family". Now I'm positive that's what it is because he hums it for longer periods of time. Rolo's only seen Barney a few times and I don't think he learned it from the show. Maybe his teachers sing it. Likely. Although, that was Matthew's song, the one Ron's sister used to sing to him before he died. So sometimes I like to think that maybe Matthew taught it to Rolo somehow. If you believe in such things.

A couple of weeks ago, I put Rolo bed and I tossed a "Love you" over my shoulder as I headed out of his room. And as I closed the door, I heard him say "I luff." There it was. One of those moments they tell you about. Where your child tells you he loves you, when you least expect it, and more or less, without any prompts. And for the millionth moment, I was so glad I took that leap of faith.