My cats rock!

Me and my cats, we are like the bestest of friends ever. See, I have two cat friends, Kahlua and Guinness. (Yeah, Mama and Dada really love their special grown up drinks or something). Guinness is big and black and Kahlua is small and brown and they have such nice soft fur I just LOVE to give them great big hugs! Sometimes they even hold still and we have great big long hugging sessions until they go meow and run away. But I know when they say meow what they really mean is "chase me!" So I do. The best place to chase them is through my tunnel. We can go through the tunnel over and over and over. My cats love me SO much. We have this awesome history. They helped me learn how to walk and how to crawl and they just love every bit more that I can move and play with them!

Me and Kahula, last year. See how upset she is that I can't reach her yet?

Me and Guinness a few months ago. He really loves to let me pet him, can't you tell?

The latest thing I do that my cats absolutely love is trying to offer them my toys and food. I mean, they don't really seem to enjoy the cookies I try to give them, but I know it's just because they haven't tasted them yet. I'll just keep trying. And now I know they really love that I can reach up to where they like to sit like on the dining room table or the bed and try to share my toys. Check out this video of how much Kahlua loves it when I offer her my stacking cup, so much so that she has to go contemplate how much she loves me from her perch on the mantle in the dining room. (I love watching her jump up there -- I know she does it just to show off for me!)

It is really awesome having my cats around! I know they just can't wait until I'm big enough to pick them up and carry them around!

Me and my Rody

This past weekend, Mama and Dada brought me the coolest new friend ever. They say they found him all alone on the edge of the street by someone's trash, and they brought him home and cleaned him up and now he lives with us. He is my new doggie. Mama and Dada tried to tell me he was a horse, and made neighing sounds and all that stuff, but I know better. I bark at him, and he answers back even though they can't hear. After all, he knows he's a doggie, even if Mama and Dada don't get it.

My doggie and I, we share a special relationship.

The first thing they did when the brought the doggie into the living room was make it fat with this neat pump, and I of course had to help. For some reason, this doggie breathes through a hole in it's butt, and after it gets the air, it gets fat. Isn't that weird? I watched Mama using the pump and I figured it out and tried to give it air too. I was working very hard, but it didn't get any fatter when I did it. I think Mama put something in the hole to keep me from making it too fat or something. But I had fun using the pump!

Mama used a pump to put air in the doggie's butt! For some reason, Mama and Dada seemed to find this all very funny... 

After it got fat, I picked it up and loved it and carried it around the room and showed Mama and Dada just how much I loved it. And you know what they did? They tried to make me sit on it! SIT on it! Of course, at first, I was like -- how could you sit on the doggie? Won't you hurt it? I didn't get it. They don't let me sit on OTHER doggies. Like at Christmastime when I tried to sit on Grandpas dog. They said that was bad or something. But now they want me to sit on another doggie! I swear, I don't understand my parents sometimes...

Black doggie - bad to sit on. Pink doggie -- good to sit on. I don't get it.

But finally, I gave it a try. And you know what you can do on this doggie? You can BOUNCE! I LOVE to bounce. Bouncing is awesome! And so now I love this doggie even more! He lets me bounce on him and love him and carry him around and never complains like the cats do or run away like other doggies do and he is just awesome. He is the best doggie ever! 

Now, I need to work on my dismount...

Revolution and Booms

I was not feeling so good this weekend, but my Mama and Dada decided to take me to this park where there were lots of people in red coats and booms and stuff. And there were horsies there, but they didn't respond when I neighed at them. And there were doggies -- I liked the doggies. There was one doggie that I got to pet and pet and pet and that was the best part. But Mama and Dada kept talking to this other kid that was there with his Mama and Dada and baby sister -- he was older than me, and they kept telling him about something called the Revolution and the British and I really have no idea what they were talking about. All I know is there were lots of booms.

These guys in the funny outfits made lots of booms. 

But they weren't even really big booms and they didn't even make anything fall down when they boomed like in my construction video. In my video, there is a big tower that they blow up and it falls down and there is a really big boom. I could watch that video over and over again. Sometimes Mama and I have watched just the part when there is the tower falling down 10 times in a row. But at this place, I really had no idea why there were all these booms and no big things being destroyed. What good are booms without destruction, I ask you?

Dada seemed to really like whatever we were watching, but I just wanted to chew on my fingers.

At least I got to be outside and see horsies and doggies. And the booms were kind of okay. Kind of. Next time they take me somewhere with people in funny hats and costumes though, I want to at least see some more trucks. I don't even think those people in the funny costumes knew how to drive trucks. That would be such a boring world, if there were no trucks! There were some trucks in the parking lot though, so I guess that was okay. I really liked the trucks in the parking lot.

As you see here, I found the booms somewhat unimpressive...

I love hats

This morning's headwear selections included a duck "basket" and a cookie "tin". I say, they are all hats.

I really do think most people are dreadfully limited as to what they consider appropriate headwear. I mean, with all the options available for fashionable chapeaus, why would you limit yourself to what is considered by the mass populous as a "hat"? Why not branch out? 

One can even be fashionably hatted in the bath. When boats aren't available, bubbles make fine headpieces.

At play? How about an empty blocks bucket? Can't you see, the possibilities are endless!

And then of course, for the traditionalists, there is the classic "R2D2" look (one of my favorites) or the "Mama's hat" style.

 

And I don't think hats should be limited to people either. I am constantly trying to tell the cats about fashionable head wear. Why do I love hats so much? I don't know. Maybe it has to do with one of my favorite bedtime stories where a bear buys the moon a hat for his birthday, and then when the hat falls out of the tree the bear put it in, he thinks the moon got him a hat too. But then he loses it. Yeah, kind of a weird story, but I love it, and if a bear and the moon can be fashionably attired in fancy headwear, then gosh darn it, I will be too. Even if I don't have an actual "hat" to wear.

 

See, even celestial bodies deserve to wear nice hats. 

Veni, vidi, vacuum

The vacuum and I have a very special relationship.

I love when Mama does her chores like I tell her to. Like yesterday morning, I was kind of tired of stepping on crushed up pieces of cheerios and goldfish crackers from yesterday's snacks. So I took her hand, led her to the gate and said "vacuum". Surprisingly enough, she listened to me and got the vacuum out! I love helping Mama vacuum.  I admit, that thing used to scare me worse than frog boots, but now, man, I think vacuuming is the coolest. And I'm really good at helping Mama figure out all the complicated vacuum parts.

I know this piece goes in here somehow... 

I think my favorite part of the vacuum is the way it lights up and makes that awesome vroom sound. And the fact that a bunch of the attachments also make good trumpets. Though Mama doesn't seem to think that putting my mouth all over the vacuum attachments is a good thing. Can't figure out why.

Hey, Mama, I think you missed a spot under the table, That's okay, I'll get it. 

Anyway, I have to say, I don't think Mama would get near as much done with her chores if it wasn't for my help. She always says I'm such a good helper, even if sometimes it's in that tone she uses with Dada when she says he's being "so nice" or when she says she's "fine, dear". But I know she means it. I am a very helpful boy after all.

I know what I want

My Mama can be so clueless sometimes. I mean, I don't think I'm being unclear as to what I want when I grab her hand, drag her over to the gate to the kitchen, and very clearly say "cookie". Or when I pull her to the other gate, the one that leads to outside, and say "outside" or "chalk" or "walk", you'd think she'd be able to figure it out. Sometimes, I think she's even laughing at me. Like I'm being cute. I know how and when to be cute. When I smear yogurt or sweet potato or avocado all over my hair and face and shirt, I know just how cute to be to make her not mad at me. 

See? How could you ever be mad at sweet little me?

But when I want something, when I REALLY want something, I expect to get it. And sometimes, she complies, even though she gets that tone in her voice that seems to say "are you sure you want that?" Like when I wanted to read the "British Columbia" cookbook for a bedtime story. She seemed to think it was a little weird, but she complied, and did a fine job making up a story to go with the pictures. What can I say, I like pictures of cooked fish. 

I am a purveyor of much fine literature, though I think George R.R. Martin could use more tractors in his stories.

But why can't I have a cookie whenever I want? Or go outside and play with Mama when she's leaving for work? Isn't playing with me or giving me what I want more important than anything else they could be doing?  Sigh. Maybe someday my parents will understand. It's so hard being me. 

Tractor, Tractor, TRACTOR

This is me explaining to Mama and Dada how tractors work. 

So, my Mama and Dada took me to this awesome place on Saturday. There were some sheep and some doggies and some animals that Mama said were cows, but I know she was wrong because cows are black and white and these were brown, so clearly they were doggies. I tried to tell her, but she kept making me moo anyway.

 See, clearly doggies.

Anyway, but even though my Mama and Dada kept wanting me to see all the animals, which admittedly, were kind of neat, there were a few things there that I just HAD to see up close and in person. The TRACTORS!!! I LOVE tractors. They are the coolest thing ever. Close second are fire engines, backhoes, and excavators (for some reason Mama and Dada always smile at me when I say "excavator". I don't understand what's so funny.) But tractors, man, they are better than cheese, better than cookies, better than sticks, better than all sorts of stuff. I really wanted to explore and climb the first tractor I saw, but Mama said no, and I just didn't know why. She said it was dangerous or something. How could a tractor ever be dangerous for a tractor expert like me?

Sign? What sign?

Oh, that sign.

But then we found another tractor and Mama said I could sit on that one, and it was so fun! I told Mama all about how to drive a tractor and the sounds tractors make and all sorts of stuff. It was the coolest thing EVER.

And then, the next day we went to the store, some place called "Joann Fabrics" to get some fabric to cover some pillows, and you know what I saw there? TRACTORS. They had all sorts of fabrics with TRACTORS on them. (http://www.joann.com/search/_john_deere/) I insisted Mama get me some, and she did, and she said she's going to make me a pillow with tractors on it. I held the fabric in my lap the whole way home. My Mama is so cool. I hope she actually knows how to sew.

The parts of my new tractor pillow. Don't screw it up, Mama.