Atomic Fireboy

This has been yet another adventuresome week with Isaiah. He has learned a few new words, his favorite of which is "shoe." Every morning the highlight is putting on his shoes.

"Isaiah, we have to put on your shoes." "Shoe!" "That's right, your shoes" "Shoe!" "Yep, now what goes on your little foot?" "Shoe! Shoe! Shoe!"

He also likes it when I put on my shoes or let him play with my shoes or when I say "sure" because he thinks I'm talking about shoes. I didn't realize my love of shoes would rub off quite so quickly. At least I have a very happy shoe-shopping partner, though.

He has also begun to really get into brushing his teeth. Every night when it's tooth brushing time, Michael and I sing the Raffi song about brushing teeth that goes,
"When you wake up in the morning, it's a quarter to one/and you want to have a little fun/you brush your teeth/ Ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch...."
Now whenever we get out the toothbrush and toothpaste, Isaiah pretends to brush his teeth with his finger and makes the "ch ch ch ch" sound. The other day, he got a hold of my hairbrush and did the same thing.

We went to the Mall of America the other day and I bought a dress at American Eagle. Little did I know they sometimes give you candy when you buy clothing there. Maybe it was my prize for having a really cute kid or something. Whatever the case, the saleslady put a little box of jawbreakers and two little boxes of Atomic Fireballs (basically red-hot cinnamon flavored jawbreakers) into my bag when I wasn't really paying attention, so I didn't even know they were there. Later, though, I was browsing at a booth in the middle of the mall, and Isaiah was bored, so I let him play with the American Eagle bag. After a minute, I heard a rattle and saw little red balls rolling across the floor. I turned to Isaiah and saw that his mouth was stuffed with no less then five Atomic Choking Hazards...I mean Fireballs. So I had to go digging in his mouth to get them all out before he inhaled them. I fished around until I felt satisfied that I had gotten every last one and then threw the candies away and chalked it up to a novice mom moment. Fifteen minutes later, though, Isaiah spits out a tiny, sucked down Atomic Fireball that he had been happily sucking on the entire time. He must have grown some kind of secret pouch in his cute chipmunk cheeks that he hid it in. You win this time, Isaiah, but next time I'm packing a dentist mirror.