Sigh. Oh Kimmy. Enjoy that sweet, quiet little baby of yours. In a few short months he will be bringing you the remote demanding that you turn on Clifford or Wonder Pets. I had such great aspirations early on--no plastic toys (uhhh . . yeah, we got 'em), no TV watching (uhhh . . did I say he brings me the remote?), no sugary treats (uhhh . . . didn't he just lean how to say "Cookie?").
Anyhow, I digress . . .
We were in the toy store on Sunday becasue I wanted to buy him alphabet flash cards. I guess all of the sugar and the TV hasn't turned his brain to mush y e t . . . because he is constantly pointing at letters and telling me what they are. So, I found him this great set of Eric Carle (You know, The Very Hungry Caterpillar guy?) flash cards. AWESOME.
Anyhow, of course we went down the All Things Diego aisle in the toy store. The bad part? Uhhh . . got that, got that, got that, Auntie Gini gave him that, got that. Shheesh!
We did end up getting him a talking Diego doll. I actually thought this was a good thing, because maybe it would start to get him geared up for a baby brother or sister.
HE LOVES IT.
Take a look:
Are his eyes not filled with rapture, or what?
Eh-hem . . . OK kid, that's enough kissing. Uh, James. OK stop kissing Diego. HEY! DID YOU HEAR ME???
Excuse me, Mr. Kiss, can you save some of that for the LADIES??? OMG--does this mean he is going to be awesome at interior decorating? Sigh. Oh well. Clinton Kelly has a great job, right? There's hope, I guess. I love him anyway!