Yep, another non-word. And another moment of me not caring :-p
Anyway, the in-laws came in to town this weekend, and we went to a local pumpkin patch/farm. We went last year too, so we tried to get some similar photos. When we got home, we were comparing them, and holy crap – the change is crazy.
So yeah, he’s grown a ton, but we all enjoyed ourselves, and now he’s completely tuckered out!
Well, Kris and I have decided it’s time – we’re converting Dru’s bed to its toddler stage tonight.
This is spurred by the fact that apparently I wasn’t fast enough getting to Dru this morning, so he jumped out of his crib. Now, for those of you who haven’t seen his crib – it’s a good height off the ground, and we’re not really sure how he even got out. But he didn’t seem at all phased by the escape, and was giggling and waiting for me at my bedroom door. So yeah, it’s time for the toddler rail. Thankfully we picked that up a few weeks ago, so we’ve got it on hand.
So apparently Dru is going through a growth spurt (as well as teething – YAY…)
As a result, the child is eating like I’ve starved him for the first 1.5 years of his life. So far today, he has had a banana, a cup of milk, a blueberry chocolate granola bar and is working on an apple and a peach. Because he thinks that any round fruit is an apple. So he’s double fisting his apple and his peach.
But the blueberry chocolate granola bar is the funniest. Kris got it into his head last night to make granola bars out of what we had in the pantry, which boiled down to some blueberry granola and chocolate chips. He mixed them up and we cut them this morning. They’re super yummy. But the chocolate in them, as well as the honey as binder, is super messy (when eaten by hot little messes like 1.5 year olds).
So now Dru is sitting in his hair chair and munching on his apple and peach, covered in granola.
No words can describe the carnage, so here’s a picture to give an idea. At least he liked them. Go Kris!
And now he’s pointing to the peach and calling it a “bapple” – his word for apple. Everytime I correct him, he repeats “bapple” and looks at me like I’m an idiot. Ah well.