Socks & Shoes

Andrew has finally been starting to talk a lot more. He is actually trying to copy what we say and ask him to say. I'm really excited about this partly because I was a bit worried that he was a little slow and because it's just so darn cute. The sad thing is that it is just another reminder that he is growing up...too fast...never to return to baby-dom. I know, I know, it happens to all of us, but that doesn't make it any easier to swallow. My baby is no longer a baby...he's a full blown toddler! His favorite word to say isn't the typical mama or daddy (though it does tickle Jason pink when he walks in the door and Andrew comes running over calling "Daa-ddy, Daa-ddy!"). No, nothing normal like that. His favorite word is "socks". He loves to say "socks". In fact, it was one of the first words that he was actually really good at saying. He'd walk over and get his socks, one in each hand, hold them high above his head and chime "Socks!" The proud look on his face would have you think that he'd accomplished a most amazing feat like finding a cure for cancer or something. One of his other favorite pastimes is carrying his shoes around the house. He only has two pairs, but for how many I find and pick up throughout the day, you'd think he has 50. I find one in my bedroom and one halfway down the hall. I pick them up and put them back on the shoe rack by the door just to find the same pair somewhere else in the house five minutes later. And the funny thing is that a lot of the time I don't even see him take them off of the rack. I just find them in odd places throughout the house like they'd walked there by themselves. The other day, I found one of his shoes in place of my lotion bottle in the bathroom. I walk in to get some lotion on my hands and instead I find a shoe on the rack in my bathroom and no lotion. I suppose he thought it was a good trade. I, on the other hand, didn't. Unless I could have somehow found a way to moisturize my hands with a camouflage sandal. There are times that I do see him carrying his shoes around. And that's when he brings them to me because he wants to go outside. This also happens frequently throughout the day. If he's desperate enough, he'll bring me one pair of his shoes and then come back with the other. Shortly thereafter, if I haven't taken his hint, I look up and he's bringing me my shoes. At that point, I usually give in and stop what I'm doing and take the kids outside (weather allowing, of course). It's good that I have little people around me to remind me to put aside the to-do list and just take a moment to enjoy some sunshine and fresh air. It's then that I realize, "Yeah, I'd rather be out here anyway."