Austin's Ad-libs

A:   Mommy, I want a hamburger from McDonalds.
M:  We aren't at McDonalds, baby.  We are almost home.
A:   I want to go to McDonalds.
M:  McDonalds is so far away.
A:  Your car can go so far away.
A:  Your car can go so far away to McDonalds.


A:  I want my Batman.
M:  I just saw your Batman, but I don't see him anymore.  I don't know where he went.
A:  That is very interesting.

A:  Those aren't soldiers, Mommy.  They are Army Men.



And because Dallas told me to put this on the blog...and perhaps to show you a little about my brainpower these days.  We were brainstorming some ideas for the business.  I thought of something really great, so I called Dallas to amaze him.  Just as the phone started ringing, I realized it was the exact same idea we had discussed the night before.

D:  Hello
W:  Never mind.  I thought I had a brainstorm, but I realized I just have a headache.

Miss You, Too

A:  I want to go to Sassy's.
M:  We are going to go to Sassy's tomorrow.
A:  No, I don't want to go tomorrow.  I want to go now.
M:  We are going to Sassy's tomorrow, and you are going to stay with her for a few days.  Won't that be fun?
A: (pause)
A:  I might miss you.

Austin's Ad-libs

M:  Do you want spaghetti for dinner?
A:  NO.
M:  Do you want a hamburger?
A:  NO.
M:  Do you want couscous?
A:  NO.
M:  Do you want something yucky?
A:  Yeah.
M:  Do you want spinach?
A:  I don't like the spinach.
M:  Have you ever had spinach?
A:  No.
M:  Hmmm...Do you want a salad?
A:  No.  You need to eat the salad.  Salad is for girls. 

Austin's Ad-libs

Austin has started to present logical arguments.  Here are a few of the conversations I've had with him recently.

A:  We need to go to the grocery store.
M:  No, we don't need to go to the grocery store.
A:  Yes we do.  We need some food.
M:  We have food at home, baby.
A:  No we DON'T.  We are all out of food.
M:  No, we have fo...
A:  We DON'T have food.  I ate it ALL gone.


Austin was playing with some Lincoln logs and his horse on the changing table.

M:  Don't throw those sticks in the floor.
A:  Proceeds to drop each one of the Lincoln logs and slants a look at me.
M: Austin, I told you not to drop those sticks.
A:  I didn't drop them.  Little Red (the horse) dropped them.


M:  Austin, don't throw your legos. (as they crash to the ground and scatter).
A:  I didn't throw them.  They just crashed.

(This was some time ago...just before Christmas)

A:  Carry me.
M:  Austin, my arms are full.  I can't carry you.  You have to walk.
A:  I can't walk.  Carry me.
M:  Yes, you can walk.  Come on.
A:  I can't.  My tootsies don't work.

A Parent's Words

Austin pulled out his little yellow and orange laptop computer and started furiously typing away at the keys.  He looked at Daddy and said, "I'm working.  Just one minute, Daddy."



This morning, Austin was sitting at his new favorite seat on the kitchen counter with his oatmeal.

A:  I want bread.
M:  Okay.  Eat your oatmeal while I get you some toast.  (Since it was Saturday, I decided to do something special...maybe cinnamon toast.)
A:  I want bread.
M:  I know.  I'm working on it.
A:  (Noticing me putting the bread on a cookie sheet) I don't want french toast; I just want bread.
M:  This isn't french toast, baby.
A: (In a misunderstood, beleaguered, defeated voice)  I. Just. Want. Bread.
M: (pulling a slice out of the package and handing it to him) Here you go.

Partially because I hadn't had any caffeine and partially because it was such a funny little statement, I mumbled "I. Just. Want. Bread." as I walked away.

A:  What was that?
M:  That was Mommy whining.
A:  You just have to ask.
A:  You don't have to whine, Mommy.  You just have to ask.

Perfect Poses: A Day in the Life of a Super Austin

Our Morning Routine

A:  I want to get out of my crib and play.

A:  I don't want a dry, clean diaper.

M:  You have to have a dry diaper.

A:  No.  I don't want one.  I didn't have a moment.

M:  No, but you have a wet diaper.  We are going to fix that and then you can play.  (While changing his diaper, I go ahead and put on his pants for the day.  It's easier than trying to get him undressed again later.)

A:  I don't want to wear those pants.  No.  No.  I don't want those pants.  They aren't comfy cozy enough.

M:  These are very comfy pants.

A:  I don't want to wear jeans.  They are too small.

M:  These aren't jeans, baby.  They are sweatpants.

A:  I don't want to wear them.  I can't.

M:  Why don't you want to wear these pants?

A:  They are too big.

M:  Mommy can fix that.  She can make them fit.

A:  No you can't.

M:  Yes I can.  Let's sit up now.

A:  These pants are too tight.
M:  Baby, if they are too big, they aren't too tight.  Go play now.
A:  I don't want to play.  I want to go downstairs.

Thirty minutes later, we are finishing breakfast...the oatmeal that he had to have...and didn't want once it was cooked.  Once breakfast is over, I take his PJ top off and put on his daytime shirt.  If you've ever seen him eat, you'll understand why I don't put on his shirt at the same time I put on his pants.

A:  I want to keep this shirt.
M:  You have oatmeal on this shirt.  We have to take if off.
A:  I want to keep these pants on.  Don't take my pants off.

Cooking with a Hungry Toddler

This is what your French Toast looks like when you have a hungry toddler taking bites out of the bread before you can get the bread in the skillet.

Christmas

Austin's Ad-libs

Christmas...

M:  Who was born on Christmas?

A:  Baby Jesus
M: That's right.  He was born to be our King.
A:  Yep!  He was born.  Then he took a nap, and he got up and beed King.
M:  Well, he probably took a nap.
A:  He did.  He took a nap; then he beed King

M:  Who was born on Christmas?
A:  Baby Jesus
M:  Why was he born?
A:  So Santa could visit him.